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Blind Love

Book One of the Tilling Passions series

Nina Pierce

(c) 2008

Blind Love

Book One of the Tilling Passions series

Nina Pierce

Published 2008

ISBN 978-1-59578-452-0

Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509

Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © 2008, Nina Pierce. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

Manufactured in the United States of America

Liquid Silver Books http://LSbooks.com

Email:

raven@LSbooks.com

Editor

Jean Cooper

Cover Artist

Anne Cain

This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

Dedication

To my sister Gwen and sisters everywhere, who support without judgment, guide with caring words and deeds, celebrate with unadulterated joy, and love unconditionally.

Chapter 1

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

How could this have happened to someone so young? Julie Tilling dabbed at the tears ruining the makeup she’d meticulously applied to her rounded cheeks. She stared at the coffin suspended eerily over the marred earth of the Catholic cemetery, not sure what to make of this farce. Her best friend from high school was dead, and it seemed everyone in the small town of Delmont, except her, believed Jason McCarty had perished at his own hand. There were rumors circulating about gambling debts, medical school cheating scandals, and even unrequited loves, but Julie didn’t believe any of it. Jason simply had had too much to live for to take his own life.

She’d known Jason for … well, she didn’t know a time when the McCarty and

Tilling families hadn’t been friends. And though she graduated nearly a decade ago, memories of her and Jason still made Julie smile. She’d shunned the backbiting and name calling of her female peers, and he hadn’t been the jock type. The two of them had spent four years running the Key Club, yearbook, thespian and honor societies. Though he’d gone off to medical school, and she’d studied her way to an MBA, they’d always found time for each other over the years. She would miss him.

Like a good sheep, Julie joined her parents in the procession of town’s people paying their last respects. But unlike the other mourners filing between the coffin and Jason’s father, Julie was not avoiding the man’s vacant stare. Julie wanted old Doc McCarty to know she would not let her questions over his son’s senseless death be buried with the coffin.

Hunched into an overcoat, Doc McCarty looked much older than his sixty-two years.

As if reading her thoughts, his head lifted, and he caught her eye. Lines of misery morphed his normally serene features into a grotesque masque of pain and anger. The menace in his eyes speared pain straight to her heart. Of course, he was angry; the poor man was now alone in the world. Julie choked back a sob as someone stepped in front of him, breaking the string of tension momentarily connecting them.

Pulling a rose from one of the arrangements flanking the casket, she laid it on

Jason’s coffin and made a silent promise; she would continue to dig for information even if the local police hadn’t bothered.

* * * *

The sun was well past its zenith, but that didn’t diminish the weight of the July heat glistening on Julie’s skin. Nearly a month had passed since Jason’s funeral, and she still suffered from bouts of melancholy. Perhaps today it wasn’t grief making her sluggish as she dragged out of her Escort, but the oppressive humidity. It must be somewhere around ninety-five percent. Maine summers weren’t very long, but they could certainly be uncomfortable.

Julie trudged across the parking lot into the floral shop at Tilling Garden and Plants.

She ran her fingers through the thick strands of hair she’d meticulously straightened that morning. There was nothing left of her coiffure save for a rusty mass of frizz. What a

pain in the butt.

“I’m here,” she called out in unison with the bells jingling over the door.

“I’m out back.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Julie mumbled, winding her way through the displays of silk flowers and potted plants.

“That’s a pretty outfit, Jules. Not everyone can wear grey. But it’s definitely a good color for you.” Her sister Meghan barely turned away from the assortment of roses scattered on her workbench.

Julie wasn’t sure that was a compliment, but she knew her younger sibling had intended it that way, so she took no offense. “Thanks.”

Younger by a year, Meghan looked radiant as always. Nothing ever looked good on

Julie. Her sister’s chestnut curls were pulled back in an elaborate French twist with tiny wisps framing her pixie features. Meghan didn’t need to wear the makeup accenting her almond eyes and high cheekbones. Her flawless skin would have been beautiful without the subtle strokes of color.

“So what’s up with the frantic phone call, Meg?” Julie asked, leaning in to give her sister a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. “Nice bridal bouquet. I can’t believe you’ll be carrying one soon.” Julie’s heart pinched with jealousy. Her sisters seemed to have all the luck in the love department.

“I know. How cool is that? Just like Mum and Daddy.” Meghan held out her left hand. The three-quarter-carat marquis diamond caught the afternoon light shafting through the window and sent it dancing on the walls.

“Anyway, the phone call.” Meghan giggled, shrugging her shoulders. “I just can’t figure out the new filing system you set up in the office. I need the bill for the Harriman wedding tomorrow and Chelsea’s paycheck, but I couldn’t remember the combination to the safe. Then I had these invoices from the flower delivery. Those I just threw on top of the desk, along with the mail for the last couple of days.” Little roses of color blotted her cheeks. “It’s Friday, Jules. Peter and I have a date. I knew you wouldn’t be busy. Could you be a peach and dig it all out for me? You’re so much better at all the organizational stuff.”

Exasperated, Julie bit her cheek to hold in a sigh. “Meg, the combination is the month and day of our parents’ anniversary. Simple. Four numbers.” Since Meghan wasn’t really listening to the details, Julie walked into the little office off the back room as she talked. “The invoices go in the basket on top of the desk marked ‘in.’ And you could have sorted the mail to separate the junk from the bills,” Julie muttered the last observation. Two days’ worth of sale flyers and bills littered the otherwise immaculate desk.

“What?” Meghan hollered from the workbench.

“Never mind, I’ll do it, like always,” she said to no one.

“Hello, anyone here?”

The backdoor slammed. Another two steps and her baby sister, Deirdre, would have seen Meghan. Julie rubbed at the annoyance pounding behind her temples.

“Jules is in the office,” Meghan replied.

Tilling Gardens and Plants was the brainchild of her sisters. Open five years, her younger siblings had floundered financially for the first two. When Julie received her

MBA with honors from Northeastern University in Boston, she had come back to

Delmont as their partner and business manager. Under her guidance, the floral and landscaping business was supporting the three of them quite nicely.

“Oh, Jules, glad you’re here.” Deirdre’s work boots trailed mud and who knew what else through the office.

“Hey, Dee, watch the mess,”

Deirdre ignored the reprimand. “I’ve got a couple of checks.” Fishing through the deep pockets of her cargo shorts, Deirdre produced a wad of crumpled papers. “Sorry about the gum wrappers,” she said and dropped the multi-colored mess on the desk.

“There’s a check there for the Nabin’s stone walk and a deposit for the English’s job.

And since you’re here, let me run back out to the truck and get the estimate for some tree work and my mileage log for the week.”

“We pay her mileage?” Meghan stepped up behind Deirdre. “That hardly seems fair.”

Julie rolled her eyes. “We’d pay yours too, if…”

Her words were swallowed in the heated exchange of her siblings. Air whistled through the fingers pressed between her lips before thought snapped over her synapses.

After twenty-nine years, Julie had found it was the only way to get their attention. Struck dumb by the piercing noise, both women stared at her. Julie swallowed her irritation before patiently walking them through Business 101 for the umpteenth time.

* * * *

Damon Corey leaned low over the handle bars of the liquid-cooled, fuel-injected

Harley. The wind whistled past the tinted visor of his helmet, but it couldn’t muffle the roar of the chrome dual exhaust. Noise equaled power, and at the moment, he had both.

The only time he had control over his life was on the bike. Kicking the motorcycle up another gear, he watched the red needle creep toward 100 mph.

This was freedom.

Damon had at least thirty-five miles of back roads through the Maine woods before he hit the outskirts of Bangor and the residential neighborhoods. That was plenty of time to think and reevaluate the priorities in his life. He seemed to be doing it a lot lately.

He’d only been in Delmont since the snow melted. But in that short time, he’d come to enjoy the quiet streets and friendly townspeople. He wondered what their reaction would be if they knew who he really was.

Though many people pined for more action than rural towns could offer, Damon wasn’t one of them. Growing up on the streets of Philly, he’d been involved in more than his share of excitement. If that hadn’t cured him, the stint in the army before college definitely had. At thirty-one, he was more than ready to find a place he could call home.

He hated where he was going, what he had to do when he got there.

Damon didn’t want to think about that now. Now, he’d enjoy the sky as the sun slipped behind the trees, trailing crimson streaks in its wake. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the fresh scent of the pine forest whizzing by.

He could only hope that someday soon this would all be over.

* * * *

The phone on Julie’s dashboard let out a melodious tone and vibrated in a small circle.

Checking the display, she pushed the button on the hands-free set. “Hello, Meghan.”

“Hey, Sis. Peter and I are sitting in the restaurant having an argument.”

“Only a differing of opinions.” She heard Peter, Meg’s fiancé, speak into the phone, then plant a juicy kiss on her sister’s cheek, loud enough for Julie to hear.

“Stop,” Meg said away from the phone. “He’s only sucking up because he wants you to agree with him. Now, when it comes to fish raised in a farm over organic beef…”

Julie half-heartedly listened to her sister’s jabbering. Meghan didn’t really want anything, just the reassurance Julie would be on the other end of the phone. Why wouldn’t she? Julie never had plans. Julie never had a date. Julie was just Julie—solid, dependable, everyone’s Rock of Gibraltar. Wouldn’t they all be surprised to know where she was headed? But they didn’t, she hadn’t told anyone her plans.

Stretching her neck to peer in the rearview mirror, Julie checked the scarlet lipstick painting her mouth. The silken, black strands of the wig swished around her cheeks as she shook her head. She liked this look. Julie dabbed the corner of her eye where the black liner had smudged. She looked very … alluring. Very un-Julie.

Turning her attention back to the road, she spoke. “No, Meghan, in reality, they both have their pros and cons, so you’re both right.”

“Oh, Jules, pick a side.”

“Between you two? Not in a million years.” Julie laughed.

“So, what’re you up to on a Friday night? You sound like you’re in the car.”

“It’s such a nice night. I decided to go for a drive.” She paused for a moment, convincing herself she wasn’t really lying. “Nothing exciting—same old, same old.

Listen, Meg, I need to let you go. Enjoy your dinner.” Julie clicked off the line before her sister could ask anymore questions. It wasn’t in her nature to be deceptive, but she didn’t really want to explain herself to her sister. There was no way her family would understand Julie’s need to do what she was about to do.

Picking up the newspaper clipping, Julie laid it over the steering wheel. In the waning sunlight, she scanned the highlighted section of the article she’d nearly memorized. “Elvis Castonguay, owner of Starry Knights, a singles’ club in Bangor, has known Jason McCarty for several years. ‘Everyone here loved Jason. He was a good guy.

We were surprised by his sudden death. It’s such a tragedy. But no one knows what he was thinking. Who ever really understands a thing like this?’ asks Castonguay of

McCarty’s apparent suicide.” Julie folded the clipping and tucked it into her purse. “Well, Elvis, I’m thinking you may know more about Jason’s death than you mentioned to the papers. I intend to find out what it is.”

She followed the directions she’d downloaded from MapQuest, her stomach churning as they carried her through a seedier section in the city of Bangor. Checking street signs, she hoped she’d made a wrong turn somewhere along the way.

Disappointment flooded through her when she located the sign for the Starry Knights parking lot. She was in the right neighborhood.

Julie bumped the Escort into a rutted parking space.

Surrounded by brick buildings on three sides, the lot had only a single streetlamp casting a feeble orange light over the cracked and worn pavement. Fear tickled the fine hairs on her neck. Julie nervously scanned the area, not at all sure she wanted to go through with her plan. A group of leather-clad people huddled in the shadows, near the corner of the buildings. They gave her car a cursory glance, causing a shiver to run up her

spine. She couldn’t imagine Jason coming to this part of the city, let alone being a regular.

She let out a gasp as the phone on the dash rang, rattling her frayed nerves.

“Julie, here.”

“Hi, honey. It’s Mum.”

The comforting sound of her mother’s voice was a sharp contrast to the unfamiliar surroundings. “What’s up, Mum? Everything okay? I thought Dee was there. Weren’t you and Daddy going out tonight?” The questions fell out of her mouth in rapid-fire succession.

Her mother chuckled. “Our Julie. Always the one to worry.” Alice Tilling let out a feathery sigh. “Everything’s fine, dear. We already went out. Your father isn’t feeling well, and he’s gone up to bed. It’s only nine-thirty, for goodness’ sake.” Julie caught the twinge of exasperation in her mother’s voice. “Deirdre left about a half hour ago, and I

guess I’m feeling a little sorry for myself. It’s such a beautiful night. I’m sitting in the backyard, sipping iced tea and listening to the crickets. Just wanted a little company.

You’re not busy are you, honey?”

Julie locked the doors and settled into the seat. “No, Mum. Never too busy to talk with you.”

Chapter 2

Damon stood at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the DJ platform. His dark glasses made it difficult to see in the dim lights of the popular Starry Knights, but they helped disguise his face, so he’d learned to deal with the inconvenience. Raking his fingers through his thick mass of curls, he tried to settle his jangled nerves. As many times as he did this, the minutes leading up to a gig never got easier. Damon was more of an introvert. He suffered through nights like this to keep lights on in his apartment and gas in the Harley.

“Starry Knights is proud to present our guest DJ tonight!” Elvis Castonguay was above him hollering into the microphone. The radio station had done a great job with publicity. The dance floor below was packed with die-hard fans working to drown out the owner’s introduction. “Let’s give it up for Demon Jones.”

Damon hated his on-air name. The radio station manager had come up with it when

Damon had first accepted the DJ job three months ago. “The Demon” they called him.

Unfortunately, he had to act every part of that name while he was out in public.

Damon ran up the stairs to the thunderous explosion of applause and shrill whistles.

People loved shock jocks.

“How the fuck’s it going?” He yelled into the microphone mounted on his headset.

“You bastards ready to get your freak on?” Damon hit the pre-set button, and the music boomed through the speakers.

Two hours.

He only had to insult this crowd and flirt with the patrons until midnight. He looked over the writhing mass of bodies. Two women gyrating to the pounding rhythm pulled their tops up for him. From his vantage point, he had a great view of their tits.

Okay, there were some perks to his job.

* * * *

Julie hauled up the leather corset that had dropped a quarter of an inch on her rapid walk in from the parking lot. She hadn’t expected the outfit to expose so much of her bosom. But that’s what she got for indulging her fantasies and shopping on the Internet.

She yanked on the hem of the leather skirt trying to keep it from exposing the uncomfortable lacy thong. But pulling on it only dropped the corset again. She needed to stop fiddling. Sex kittens on the prowl didn’t worry about exposing too much skin. And that’s who she wanted to be tonight—a voluptuous vixen cruising for a wild night of uninhibited sex with a stranger. Well, that and meet Elvis Castonguay.

Standing just inside the door of Starry Knights, Julie caught a couple of guys ogling her. Heat rushed up her neck, and instinct splayed a hand over her cleavage. They both turned away. Stupid. The bulging eye reaction was exactly what she’d been hoping for when she decided to venture out of her comfort zone and buy the outfit. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out to be Julie Tilling, shameless sex goddess. And maybe she had simply expected too much from herself on her first visit to a bar.

“Go with it,” she mumbled, trying to boost her waning confidence. No one knew her here. She could be or do anything she wanted without repercussions. Buoyed by that

thought, Julie threw back her shoulders and let her chest lead the way. Undulating to the thunderous cacophony of music and voices, the throng of people moved as a single mass of heated bodies. Someone grabbed her butt. Too stunned to acknowledge the intimate touch, she continued to maneuver her way to the bar. How did people do this night after night?

“I’ll have an iced tea,” she shouted into the bartender’s ear.

“Long Island?”

“No, Delmont.” That was a strange question. Why would he care where she was from? Maybe he was just hitting on her.

“The iced tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” She leaned in seductively, offering him a view of her cleavage.

The bartender lifted a shoulder and turned away … story of her life.

Leaning her back against the bar, Julie scanned her surroundings. The blue spotlights revolving over the heads of the revelers cast everything in shadow. She could just make out people in the recessed corners on either side of the dance floor. The subdued lighting behind the mahogany bar lit the bottles of liquor and provided ambient work light for the four bartenders, but did little to illuminate the patrons. Anonymity seemed to be a high priority. Well, that was just fine with her. Through the exposed duct work high above, Julie watched lights on the ceiling glitter and twinkle like stars. Nice effect.

Julie paid for her drink and stood at the bar, trying to relax. But after the second slurred dance request, she decided to move and melt into the crowd. Sipping the iced tea, she swirled it in her mouth, savoring the unique blend the bar added to the mix. Whatever they did to it gave her favorite drink a nice kick.

Settling on a stool at the edge of the dance floor, Julie sat riveted by the sexually explicit moves of the patrons enjoying the music—and each other. Hands flitted over body parts not meant to be touched in public. Women pressed against women, men danced with men, several groups of mixed sexes sandwiched each other in enticing gyrations that speared heat straight to her sex.

The same sex thing didn’t bother Julie. Her baby sister was bisexual. Deirdre’s current lover was a wonderful woman and freelance writer named Brianna. What made

Julie uncomfortable were the overtly sexual overtones of the dances. That, coupled with the fact no one seemed to care she and everyone else were watching.

A beautiful blonde moving in time with the music caught Julie’s eye. As if performing for Julie, the woman ran her hands up her torso and back down to her hips.

Her tongue traced the curve of her parted lips. The man behind her, oblivious to Julie’s curious stare, cupped the woman’s breasts and pumped his hips against her bottom.

Julie broke eye contact. The heat of embarrassment slid from her collarbone to her hairline. She wasn’t a voyeur. She gulped greedily from the glass beaded with moisture.

Was it getting hot in here, or was it just her?

The last pulses of music faded away.

All eyes focused on the platform. Julie was grateful to have something other than the dance floor to watch. High above, two women were cradled in the DJ’s muscular arms.

His fingers splayed wide over their hips.

“You ladies having a good time?”

Their blonde curls and breasts bounced enthusiastically.

Julie had seen publicity photos of the man known as Demon Jones, but the real thing

made her throat go dry. She took a long pull on her drink as her eyes swallowed him. His dark hair was slicked away from his face, unruly curls falling around his temples. His trademark stubble accented the strong jaw and deep cleft in his chin. Pulling her bottom lip through her teeth, Julie wondered what it would be like to nibble at that jaw. She took several long pulls from her iced tea. Where had that come from?

Demon Jones was the bad boy of radio. She never listened to the filth he passed off as entertainment. But looking up at him now, she understood why so many women were enamored by the man. He was a dark-haired Adonis. He dwarfed the women in his arms.

Their heads were snuggled comfortably into the curve of his broad chest, and their hips pressed into his muscular thighs. The jeans he wore did little to hide his masculinity.

Perhaps she should give his radio show a few minutes of her time.

“Want to be part of the entertainment?” Demon asked.

“Anything for you, Demon.” One of the blondes pushed her hand into his open shirt and stroked the strong pecs.

Whistles and catcalls erupted from the floor. Julie felt the heat between her thighs and shifted in her chair. How would it feel to run her fingers over that bronzed skin? Julie fanned her face, emptying her lungs in a loud rush of air. She drank down more iced tea, hoping to cool her raw nerve endings. But the drink seemed to be adding flickers of flame to her blood rather than cooling it.

Demon looked down at the crowd. Even from this distance she could see the rakish smile and raised eyebrow. “Well, maybe later, darlin’.” The man on the platform rotated his hips, causing giggles to bubble out of the women. “You ladies ready to be part of the show?”

Again with the head bobbing and boob bouncing.

“Let’s hear it.” Demon raised his arms, and the crowd exploded. He pushed a button on the console, and the music thrummed through the speakers. He stepped back into the shadows, giving the women the spotlight.

The crowd called out body parts they wanted to see while the women did a bump and grind. They lifted their shirts, teasing their audience with little peeks at the soft underside of their breasts. They pushed at the waist of their skirts exposing flat bellies and lacy underthings. Enthralled, Julie sipped at her drink. As if on cue, the shirts flew over their heads with the last beat of the song cascading down on their audience. Demon stepped around the women, his thick arms encircling their chests and covering their nudity. He swung them out of the spotlight. The next song pounded out a new rhythm, and the dance floor began moving wildly. Spectators became dancers once again, their rising libidos throwing them into a frenzy of sexual play.

Julie’s straw vibrated as she gulped the rest of the cool libation. Her head spun in the dizzying heat of the bar. She could use another iced tea, but the bartenders suddenly seemed a long way off. Closing her eyes for a moment, she worked to control the light-

headedness, but that only caused another round of vertigo.

The music seeped into her muscles. She wanted to dance. Make that needed to dance.

Julie clapped her hands over her head in time with the percussion of the music. Her legs were a little unsteady when she stood. If she had had any liquor, she would have thought she was a little drunk. But she hadn’t, only the tea. Had someone spiked it? She’d heard about that. Knowing the drink hadn’t been out of her sight, she dismissed the thought immediately.

Her body swayed of its own accord, and she maneuvered her way deep into the mass of bodies, losing herself in the crowd.

* * * *

Half-naked bodies were everywhere, both men and women. It shouldn’t surprise

Damon. That’s what Starry Knights offered its patrons—unfettered public exposure. The local cops knew what happened here, but as long as no one got hurt, they left Elvis and his clientele alone. They probably would have shut down the club immediately if they knew what went on in the lower floors of the building. But they didn’t. Few people did.

Only one more set. A mere twenty minutes separated him from his freedom. Then

Damon would find a nameless beauty, leave with her draped over his arm and end the night with some unencumbered sex.

He’d thought it a great perk when he first took the job at WKOR in Bangor. Female groupies were always looking to sleep with the bad boys of the airwaves. But the whole thing was becoming tiresome. He wasn’t cut out to be a love ’em and leave ’em kind of guy. Problem was, it had become part of who he was. People expected him to be a playboy, especially his boss. It kept people listening and sponsors buying airtime. And when it came right down to it, the bottom line—not his self-esteem—was all that mattered.

Damon turned down the music. He hollered epithets into his mic, insulting and demeaning the crowd below. They went wild with enthusiasm. The more scathing his comments, the louder they chanted and clapped. Damon couldn’t help but laugh at the juxtaposition of his remarks to their actions. As long as he lived, he’d never understand the human psyche.

“You’re animals,” he laughed. Their howling calls wafted on the hot air currents drifting up from below. “Okay, time for a dance contest. You know the drill, if the spotlight shines on you, you’re on. What you do after that is up to you.”

Damon readjusted the volume, and the music pounded out, whipping the crowd into a frenzy of flailing arms. Spotlights crossed and flitted over the assembly. The guys in the lighting booth had been through the routine before. They’d been down on the dance floor throughout the night scoping out the crush of bodies, determining the right ratio of men and women. Starry Knights catered to all sexual orientations. Elvis prided himself on keeping his patrons happy. If that meant naked men, he’d give it to them. If tonight was more the heterosexual, lesbian crowd, he’d be sure his people offered them a bevy of beauties.

Whichever the case, Damon was out of here after this performance.

* * * *

Julie had no idea what was happening. The whole evening had been an overwhelming discord of sensual overload. The music had stroked her body like the bow of a violin, sending her taut muscles quivering with every pulse. She had danced with women and men, sometimes both. Their hands and mouths wandered her body without inhibition.

Their intimate touches had startled her at first. She’d bolted from the dance floor, too chicken to do anything but sip at another iced tea and watch. Other people’s clothes had

disappeared as the night wore on and so had her reticence. No one knew her here. No one cared that Monday she would go back to boring Julie, CPA. Tonight, she could be anyone. And tonight she wanted to be Julie, wanton pinup girl.

So she’d pushed her way back in the crowd, enjoying the pleasant thrumming in her head and belly. She didn’t know how many people had touched her—at the moment, didn’t really care. She hadn’t been able to return their affections, but others had. She wasn’t sure how many orgasms she’d witnessed, couples having intercourse on the dance floor or women pleasured to climax by partners of both sexes, but she’d become increasingly aroused as the night wore on. Although her body was heavy with desire, she hadn’t allowed anyone to satisfy her in public. Even she had her limits.

At that moment, the spotlight illuminated her, cast all eyes on her, taking away her anonymity. Heat rose from the soles of her feet to settle in her cheeks. Julie swiveled her head, not understanding the chanting coming from the crowd. They wanted her to dance.

Hands coaxed her from behind to join the small group gathered in the center of the dance floor. A man grabbed her hand and pulled her against his bare chest. The smell of musk and sweat assaulted her nose—completely masculine, completely erotic. His lips crushed down on hers, stealing what little air was in her lungs. He spun her away from him, and just as quickly, twirled her back into his arms. They both laughed. The crowd surrounding the intimate group of twenty began to chant.

It was only a dance contest. This, she could enjoy.

Her partner pulled her tight to his body, his thigh parting her legs. She felt his erection against her hip, and jolts of current spiked down her center. He laid his cheek against her temple, his breath hot on her ear. He pulsed his hips in time with the music, rubbing her swollen sex against the soft leather of his pants. She was overwhelmed by the myriad sensations rippling through her. For a moment she didn’t think about where she was, didn’t worry about the people around her. She thought only of what her body yearned for, what she’d been craving all night.

Release.

She closed her eyes, hearing only the music, enjoying the way her muscles clenched as her need built to a crescendo.

The supple body of a woman molded to Julie’s back and joined in the rhythmic movement of their bodies. The woman’s heated fingers trailed embers down Julie’s shaky thighs.

Another person?

She wasn’t alone with this man? The realization snapped her back from a place she hadn’t wanted to go. A place Julie promised herself she wouldn’t go.

What was she thinking? It was not the first time that night Julie had been in this position, but it was the first time she’d actually thought about giving in to the release of sexual tension knotting her gut. Later, in a more private place—like her shower—she’d tame the horny beast, but not now, not in front of all these people. Even this new person she’d become had her limits. With a delicate shimmy and twist she’d perfected, Julie extricated herself from the couple. Unaffected by her departure, the two seamlessly closed the gap between them.

Relief flooded over her as one of the cocktail waitresses motioned for her to come out of the spotlights. She cast a glance over her shoulder. Clothes were being removed from the remaining ten contestants as quickly as dancers were being pulled from the contest. Despite her outfit’s inability to completely cover her breasts, Julie’s clothes had remained intact. She intended to keep it that way. For the third time that night, she lost herself in the multitude.

Besides, she still had work to do.

Chapter 3

Damon strode along the back of the bar on his way to Elvis’ office, trying to avoid the crowd. He and Elvis were good friends. He liked the man. Elvis was one of the few people who knew the real Damon Corey.

He stopped when he saw the black-haired beauty from the dance contest staring down the bouncer. She stood defiantly with her hands on her hips. Her breasts pushed forward, brushing Joe’s barrel chest.

“Well, I guess I just don’t understand. You’ve let all kinds of people go through that door behind you. I’ve seen them coming and going. Why not me?”

Twenty minutes ago, this woman had acted like she didn’t understand what was going on when the spotlight flooded over her. Damon had seen lots of women appear all innocent until they were nearly naked, gyrating in front of the crowd. Not this one.

He’d watched as she’d ridden her partner’s thigh, her lids hanging heavy with desire.

Damon thought she’d be like all the rest, slithering out of her clothes and satisfying herself in public. But she wasn’t. She’d done some kind of slink and roll and extricated herself quite gracefully from the writhing bodies on the dance floor. Then disappeared.

“As I told you, only members can go through, or guests on the list.” Joe looked down his crooked nose at her, the strobe lights reflecting off his bald head. He pounded his stubby finger on his clipboard. “Ma’am, if you’re not on the list, you’re not going in.”

“Ma’am? Do I look like a ma’am to you?” she asked, poking Joe in the sternum.

She was feisty. Joe intimidated most patrons of Starry Knight, but not this one.

Damon’s cock throbbed behind his zipper. Maybe he could save Joe, give the woman what she wanted and get a little something on the side as well. A man couldn’t watch people getting it on all night, and not be looking for a little piece of action for himself.

“Hey, Joe.” Damon stepped out of the shadows, getting a closer look at the sexy brunette. “How’s it going?”

“Hey, Demon. It’s going just fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” He inflated his chest and stepped between Damon and the woman. “You going back to see Elvis?” Joe reached for the door handle behind him.

“Yeah, and I’d like to take the lady with me.”

“This one?” Joe’s face wrinkled in confusion. Quarrelsome women weren’t usually

Demon’s style, but tonight a little intellectual stimulation might be an interesting mix with some slap and tickle.

“Yeah, she probably didn’t mention she was waiting for me.” He took the woman by the arm and pulled her around Joe’s sizable bulk. “I guess we got our signals crossed, babe.” He leaned in and gave her a gentlemanly peck on the cheek. “I wanted you to wait by the bar, not the door.” He winked at her.

She flipped her hair and batted her lashes. “I just can’t keep anything straight.”

Damon bit back a laugh as the woman sent Joe a smug look and filled her lungs, no doubt to tell Joe exactly where he could go. Not wanting to referee another confrontation, Damon hustled her through the door Joe reluctantly held open for them.

“Hey, don’t manhandle me.” She pulled her arm from his grasp.

The muted light of the wall lamps mounted in the paneled hall seemed bright after

the smoky haze of the bar. Anger flushed her cheeks, and her chest heaved with indignation. It was a sexy combination that heated Damon’s blood.

“I wasn’t handling you. I thought you wanted access backstage.”

The door clicked shut, muffling the music. Only the pulsing beat of the percussion sections came through the insulated walls. Her eyes flicked from him to the door. Fear snapped across her features before she schooled them.

“I just wanted to see what was behind door number one.” She pressed the soft roundness of her breast against his arm, and her hip rubbed provocatively along his thigh.

The woman didn’t seem to know which persona she wanted to portray: innocent victim or erotic seductress.

He chose the vamp. Perhaps he was just projecting, but the woman clinging to him like a cat in heat might be looking for a plaything. He guided her down the hall. “You come here often…?” Damon dragged out the last word, inviting the woman to provide a name.

“Jul…” She looked up at him through thick lashes, her cheeks pinking. “Just Jewel.

And no, this is my first time here,” she said, wrapping her hand around his bicep, her tiny steps quickening to keep pace with his lanky strides. “Starry Knights is an interesting place.”

“Well, Just Jewel,” Damon smiled and covered her hand with his, “I need to talk with the owner. But when my business is over, perhaps we could have a little private party of our own?”

“The owner? You mean Elvis Castonguay? You know him?” Jewel pulled him to a stop in the paneled hall, excitement sparking in her eyes, eyes green as an ocean and deep enough to fall in and be happy you were drowning. Blood pooled in his groin at the thought.

He cleared the lust from his throat. “Yeah, we’re good friends. Why?”

“I was just hoping to talk with him, that’s all.” She shuffled her booted foot over the carpet, her cheeks filling with color once again.

The woman flitted back to chaste innocence. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Though either of her two personas would have its advantages in bed, Damon wasn’t sure he wanted to tangle with her personality confusion. Jewel was obviously in disguise for a reason. The dominatrix-style wig was cute on her, but it didn’t fit the heart-shaped face or the childlike eyes staring up at him.

“Elvis knows a friend of mine who was a regular here at Starry Knights. I just wondered what he can tell me about him.”

Damon steered her to the elevator doors. Sliding the key from his pocket into the control panel on the wall, he heard the car descend with his falling libido.

A male friend? More likely a boyfriend

. Damon definitely didn’t want to become entangled in that headache. Well, that decided it. He’d take her up to Elvis, dump her at the office and head out the back door into the private garage. The Demon’s rep would stay intact since only Elvis would know he bailed on the woman and kept himself out of someone else’s problems.

When the doors hissed open, he motioned for her to enter the plush elevator. “Shall we?”

* * * *

Julie wasn’t sure what she was thinking. Evidently, she wasn’t.

Her overstimulated body seemed to have been calling the shots since Demon had stepped into her argument with muscle-boy. Her head still buzzed from the hazy, blue smoke and the heat generated from so many bodies. Demon Jones stood next to her, his presence sucking all the air from the elevator, making it hard for her to fill her lungs.

Keeping her eyes facing the door, Julie checked Demon out in her peripheral vision.

He was even better looking close-up. A man like him invited a woman’s fantasies to run wild. She’d like to take off his dark glasses and peer into those eyes, watch them cloud with desire while her hands slid over the sinewy muscles of his chest. Julie had felt the heat and power of him in their brief contact in the hall and had tried to ignore her body’s reaction to his proximity. But when he’d flashed that lazy smile of his, all she could think about was sinking her teeth into his pouty bottom lip.

The wig swished as she shook the thoughts from her head. They were headed to a private party. Julie knew what he meant when he said it, and yet she had still come with him. Her nipples grew taut, straining pleasantly against the leather of her corset. Her stomach dropped even as the elevator rose. She shifted the weight on her feet, trying to ease the heavy throb pulsing in her sex. She’d never had anything remotely close to a one-night stand, but the thought of doing that now intrigued her. Isn’t that how she’d hoped this night would end? But the real question still plagued her—could she actually go through with it? The doors opened, interrupting her thoughts.

The office in front of her was bathed in blue light emanating from the glass shelves lining the wall on her left. A man she assumed was Elvis Castonguay stood with his back to them. His silhouette flashed in the lights pulsing through the line of windows filling the wall on her right. She could feel the throbbing beat of the music more than hear its melody. She knew instinctively he watched the patrons below.

Elvis turned to them. “Demon.” His long legs ate up the space between them.

“Another wonderful show as always.” He pumped Demon’s hand. His appraising gaze swept the length of Julie, heating her skin as if he’d touched her. “And who is this ravishing beauty?”

“Elvis, Jewel. Jewel, Elvis Castonguay.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Castonguay,” she said.

“Please, call me Elvis. And the pleasure is all mine.” He took the hand she offered, gently kissing her knuckles. “May I get either of you a mixed drink?”

“I’d like an iced tea,” Julie said, feeling the heat of the room surround her.

“Long Island?” the men asked in unison, the incredulity obvious in their voices.

“No, I’m from Delmont, right here in Maine. Why does everyone keep asking me that?” She shot a glance from one man to the other.

“She is delightful, that one.” Elvis chuckled and waved his long fingers elegantly over his shoulder as he walked away. “Anything for you, Demon?” Lifting the phone on the corner of his desk, Elvis’ hand poised over the buttons.

“No, I’m not staying. I just brought Jewel to meet you.”

Elvis raised an eyebrow. “It’s barely past midnight, my friend. Are you sure you wouldn’t like to enjoy the company of one of those blonde beauties you displayed so nicely on the platform? As always, you know you have a standing offer of my business.”

“Elvis.” Demon let out a heavy sigh, “I appreciate your hospitality, but it was a long set. I think I’ll just call it a night. I’ve still got a long ride home.”

“Such a shame.” Elvis clucked his tongue and dialed the phone.

Demon spun Julie to face him. “Jewel, do you have any idea what a Long Island iced tea is?” he growled in a low whisper as Elvis talked on the phone.

“I have no idea, but if that’s the iced tea they serve here, I think I’d like the recipe.”

“You had one of those?”

“Two. And now I’m about to have a third.”

“And I can only assume your designated driver is downstairs still enjoying the music?”

“No, I came here alone. And I’ll be driving home alone as soon as I have a drink with Elvis and talk with him about my friend. I haven’t been drinking. I don’t need someone to take me home.”

He grabbed her elbow, pulling her away from Elvis’ desk. “You’re here alone?” He ripped the sunglasses off his face, his nose only an inch from hers. “Are you an idiot? A

beautiful woman alone in Starry Knights? Does anyone know you’re here?”

Julie pulled her arm from his grasp, comprehension dawning in her thick skull.

“That’s none of your business.” His eyes were dark pools holding her captive in their gaze. He stared at her with … what was that—concern or hunger?

“Listen, Jewel, you made it my business when you agreed to accompany me up to this little soiree.” He spoke the words evenly, but they carried an undercurrent of anger.

“I am not leaving until you are safely in your car with the doors locked. And you are not having a Long Island iced tea. For your information, it is alcohol! It contains equal parts of gin, rum, vodka, tequila and triple sec with a splash of cola. Since you’ve had two, my only question is,” he paused, his mouth curving in a smug grin, “would you prefer coffee or cola to sober you up?”

Julie stared at him, trying to wrap her head around what he’d just said. No wonder she was finding it hard to think straight. She had been well on her way to getting snockered. How foolish of her. She tried to smile at him, but her lips merely quivered with nerves. “Either is fine. Thank you, Mr. Jones.”

Folding the sunglasses, Demon tucked the earpiece into the pocket of his shirt so they hung over the black material. He turned back toward the man at the desk. “Elvis, I’ve had a change of plans. I’ll take my usual, and the lady will have a diet cola.”

* * * *

Damon sat on the leather couch, only half listening to Jewel’s conversation with

Elvis. He gulped the tonic water, trying to wash down the bitter flavor of shame. He couldn’t believe he’d treated her that way. She wasn’t a child. How she got here and who she left with was none of his business. If the woman seated next to him wanted to spend the night with a man, more power to her. It’s what he’d intended when he brought her up here.

But something just didn’t sit right. One moment she played the erotic vixen, the next, naïve virgin. One of the personas wasn’t real, and until he knew which one—as

Neanderthal as it sounded—he wasn’t about to leave her alone. He was fairly certain

Elvis wouldn’t use her for his own gain, but Damon wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to her. He meant it when he told Jewel he’d see her safely to her car.

Elvis sat across from them, sipping from a champagne flute. The bright orange shirt showed off his fake tan and bleached teeth. His long hair was pulled neatly back in a

ponytail. His trademark khaki pants were creased sharp as knives. The leather belt matched the loafers he wore with no socks. Few men could get away with the combination, but on Elvis, the outfit worked.

“Why do you ask about Jason McCarty?” Elvis asked.

“He and I went to school together. Our families are quite close.” Jewel reached in her purse, pulled out a newspaper clipping and handed it to Elvis. “They quoted you in the paper.”

“School chums, hmm? You aren’t one of the Tilling sisters by any chance?”

“Yes, I’m Julie Tilling.” The enthusiasm drained from her face. The woman’s head swiveled, panic shooting through the doe eyes staring at Damon. “I mean…” She turned back to Elvis. “What I mean is … well, Demon misunderstood when I introduced myself.” She let out a nervous giggle, her hands waving in the air as if to clear away the confusion. “My sisters call me Jules, short for Julie, not Jew-wels, like you wear.” Even in this light, Damon could see her blush. “Anyway, why do you ask?”

Elvis stood abruptly, striding over to the desk. “No reason, I, uh…”

This was odd. Damon had never known Elvis to stumble for words.

Julie stood up, walking over to the desk. “Please, Elvis, if you know anything, anything at all, Jason was my friend. The Delmont police are finished with their investigation; they’ve officially ruled Jason’s death a suicide, but I just don’t believe he killed himself. I’d like to find out what really happened.”

Damon heard the tremble in her voice and hoped she wasn’t beginning to cry. Shit, what had he gotten himself into? He gulped down the rest of his drink, setting the glass a little too firmly on the coffee table. Both people turned.

“Elvis, obviously the lady is concerned.” Damon stood. The sooner this got cleared up, the sooner he could get her to her car and go home. “You said this guy was a regular.

Is there anything you can tell her?” Damon wondered if this whole thing had to do with

Elvis’ private business downstairs. He shot Elvis a questioning look, but the man shook his head so slightly, only Damon noticed. Relief flooded through him. This guy, Jason, didn’t have anything to do with that

, at least.

“Why did the police make the connection to you?” Julie asked.

“I was there that day. I was the one who found him.” Elvis’ voice was a mere whisper.

“Oh, Elvis, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. It wasn’t in the papers.” Julie laid her hand over

Elvis’ trembling fingers. “I can’t even begin to imagine how awful that must have been for you.”

“A Tilling?” Elvis paused as if contemplating some important information. “There is something I can give you. It’s tucked away in my safe downstairs.” At that moment, the phone on his desk chimed. “Excuse me.”

* * * *

Julie stood at the wall of windows, staring at the scene below. She had no idea what

Elvis went to retrieve. She could only hope it might shed some light on Jason’s death.

“You okay?” The heat of Demon’s breath caressed her neck. “Elvis is a good man. If he said he has something to help, I’m sure he does.”

Thinking about someone finding Jason shot to death overwhelmed her. Sadness stung the back of her eyes and filled her throat. Even after all this time, she was still

mourning Jason. She would like nothing more than to lean into the man behind her for comfort. The heat of his body sent goose bumps skittering along her bare shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Julie said. “It’s been a long night, that’s all.” He was so close she didn’t dare turn around. If the compassion filled his eyes, the way it filled his voice, Julie would not be able to resist falling into his arms, and that hardly seemed appropriate at the moment. Then again, the idea of a private party sounded like something Jewel wanted.

Women didn’t dress this way to keep men at arm’s length. Julie didn’t want to walk on the cautious side of life anymore.

“Does it ever get tiresome watching it?” she asked.

“What?”

Good, her question threw him off-kilter. “You know. The people and what they’re doing? You see the two men and that woman over there?” Julie leaned to the side so

Demon could see around her as she pointed to a shadowed corner of the bar. “I thought they were dancing, but there’s definitely something more going on.” A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “The man in front is definitely buried deep in the woman, and the man in back … well, I’m not sure what he’s doing. But with their mouths open that way, I’m thinking they’re all really enjoying themselves.” She leaned back, her bottom grazing his thigh.

“Oh, they’re definitely getting it on.” Demon braced his hands on either side of her, pressing the solid plane of his chest against her back. They were both testing the waters.

“And yes, I get tired of watching.” He leaned close to her ear, his breath the only thing separating his lips from her skin. “They put in extra spotlights that shine on the platform for me so I don’t have to stare at them all night. I mean, even a saint would get a hard-on seeing people go at it for two hours.” He rubbed against her. There was no mistaking his arousal.

Julie laughed. “I suppose you’re right.” She turned around to face him, her body rubbing intoxicatingly against his. He didn’t move away from her. “Did you originally bring me up here to relieve a little of that tension, Demon?”

“I don’t think you want to know what I was thinking in the elevator.”

Her brow lifted with the corner of her mouth.

“This is probably a very bad idea.” He took a step back, but she moved with him.

She’d come this far; she had no intention of stopping now. “Maybe I was a little tipsy in the elevator, but I’m stone-cold sober now. There is no chivalry needed, Demon.

I don’t need your protection.” She slid her thigh up his leg.

“You think that’s what I’m doing?”

She ran a nail down the hard line of his chin. “Oh, you play the animal, but the heart of a gentle man hides in here.” She kissed the center of his chest.

“Then it may shock you to learn I intended on having my way with you when we got up here. That phone call pulling Elvis away was his attempt to give me privacy.”

“No more than it would shock you to learn that’s what I hoped.” She scraped her teeth along his chin. “Elvis said he’d be gone awhile.”

“Not nearly long enough.” Demon wrapped his arms around her, crushing down on her mouth. He tasted of lemon and smelled like heaven. His tongue ran along the seam of her mouth, and she opened for him. His moan vibrated straight to her throbbing sex.

His fingers kneaded her shoulders, while hers frantically worked the buttons on his shirt.

“Do you think they can see us from down there?”

“Not on the couch.” Demon scooped her into his arms and carried her across the room. She kicked off her ankle-high boots on the way. His mouth never lost contact with hers. The pounding rhythm of the music was replaced by the roar of her heart hammering in her ears. He laid her on the couch, coming down on top of her. She shoved the shirt off his shoulders, her nails biting crescent moons into his back.

“Demon,” she breathed into his ear, nipping at the lobe.

“Damon. My real name’s Damon. Say it.” And she did. On hiccuping gasps, his name fell off her lips. He leaned away from her, pulling the front zipper down her corset.

She arched her back, pressing her breasts to his eager lips. He suckled one pearled nipple and then the other.

“Beautiful. You’re so beautiful. Your skin’s like satin.”

Her nails raked down his back, and her hands cupped his ass, pulling him tightly between her open thighs. Oh, how she wanted this man.

“Wait. Just a minute, Damon.” Julie pushed at his shoulders. “I need to get that.”

The chime of a cell phone broke through the fog of desire engulfing her.

“My purse, there on the coffee table, my phone’s in my purse.”

He handed it to her and nipped along her collarbone. “I’m sure it can wait.”

“You never know, it could be an emergency.” Julie flipped open the phone. “Julie here.” Damon drew lazy circles with his finger around her belly and breasts.

“Hey, Jules, were you in bed?”

“No, Dee, you didn’t wake me. Thanks for asking.”

“You okay? You sound out of breath.”

“Breathless? Me? Oh, I was just doing some sit-ups before bed … and yes, before you say anything, I know what time it is. Sometimes I stay up this late. It is the weekend.”

“You always do aerobics before turning in?”

“Don’t worry about my fitness regimen. Did you want something at this hour?”

Damon laved her breast, and air whistled through her teeth.

“Did you talk to Mum tonight?”

His tongue took another lap around her nipple, and she had all she could do to focus on Deirdre’s voice. “Mum? Yeah, she called me earlier. She seemed fine. She told me

Daddy didn’t feel well, but I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”

He scraped his teeth along her collarbone, eliciting a gasp of pleasure.

“Jules, you sure you’re all right? You sound funny.”

“It’s late, I’m yawning.” Julie faked a loud yawn. “I’m sure Mum’s fine, Dee.

Nothing to worry about. I’m hanging up … go back to your game of pool…”

“Wait, say hi to Bri.”

“No, I don’t need to say hello to Brianna. Good-bye, Dee.” She closed the phone and dropped it on the floor.

“You, Damon, are a wicked man.” Julie buried her fingers in his hair, pulling him tighter to her chest. “I want you to…” His mouth came down hard on hers, and he swallowed her words. Damon’s fingers took a slow walk up her thigh, bringing her skirt with them. His thumb trailed over the dampness of her thong. “Yeah, that. Touch me like that, Damon.”

“You have entirely too many clothes on.” She reached between them, fumbling at his

belt buckle.

“Let me get it.” He stood up quickly, shucking off the jeans and his cowboy boots.

Julie hadn’t seen many men naked, and this one was a sight to behold. The erection tapping against his belly was all hers. He was aroused by Julie Tilling, and the thought empowered her. She’d never felt so wanton. Sitting up, she took the condom from his shaky fingers. Julie rubbed her thumb against the mushroom tip of his penis, collecting the drops of desire. She brought her hand to her mouth, dragging her thumb down her tongue in a move so seductive it had him grinding out a moan.

“Damon, you taste so good.” She looked up at him through her lashes and rolled the latex down the length of his cock.

Damon lowered his weight on her, their bodies melting into the leather. She sighed his name, and he ran kisses up her chin, his hand tickling the inside of her thigh, running up her slick folds and circling the sensitive nub.

Damon’s touches were like liquid heat, melting her bones and dampening her thighs.

Julie didn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed with a man. Sex had always seemed so mechanical in the past.

Not tonight. Tonight, Julie floated on a cloud of ecstasy, her mind empty of everything but the sensations he sent reeling through her body. The heat of his skin against her fingers, the spicy smell of his cologne mingled with the scent of their desire, the sound of her name on his lips, and the way he stared at her as if she were a banquet and his hunger unsated for weeks; all of it sent overwhelming need sizzling over her nerves. Every cell in her body yearned for him, craved this union with Damon. She didn’t know it could be like this.

“Damon, I want you.”

“Julie.” He covered her mouth with his, their tongues battling as he lifted her hips and entered her with exquisite leisure, allowing her body time to adjust to his girth. He stretched her, but she was so wet he slipped in without pain, filling her completely. He swallowed the moan she couldn’t contain.

“You’re so tight and wet, Julie.”

His name was the only coherent word she could form on her lips.

They found their rhythm, each moving their bodies to increase the pleasure. Damon held her arms over her head with one hand. The other circled her clitoris, sending her soaring higher with each stroke. She felt the bliss gather in her muscles, drawing her taut.

Her internal muscles clenched, pulling him deeper. Then there was nothing, save for his murmurs in her ear and the incredible sensations shooting to her fingers and toes. Her orgasm was powerful, rippling through her, making her entire body quake with every push of his hips. Damon threw back his head and let out a feral growl. He thrust into her with such wonderful strength all she could do was hold onto him and ride out their orgasms as her world shattered around her.

Chapter 4

Julie flipped on the morning news and settled on the couch. The tattered box Elvis had given her sat on the coffee table in front of her. Sadness tripped over regret. Had she missed something about Jason’s demeanor the last time she saw him? Julie didn’t think so.

And now, this was all she had left of her dear friend. An old yearbook, a few faded photographs, a video tape labeled “Jason’s High School Years” and a stupid kazoo from a basketball game. She picked it up and hummed the school song into the silly toy.

“Calling ducks?”

The kazoo flew from her hand as she turned to find her sister standing in the doorway. “What the hell? Don’t you knock anymore, Deirdre?” A family member’s sudden appearance shouldn’t surprise her, but it took Julie’s breath away every time.

“The back door was open.” Deirdre came around the corner from the kitchen, a mug of coffee in one hand, a banana in the other.

“Help yourself.” Julie picked up her mug of coffee from the table.

“Yeah, thanks. You need more creamer, by the way. I just used the last of it.”

“I’ll remember to put it on our shopping list.” Julie didn’t disguise the sarcasm, but

Deirdre either missed it or didn’t bother to acknowledge it. “What’re you doing in town on a Saturday? Don’t you have work at the farmhouse or something?”

“Bri wants to have a barbeque tonight. She’s leaving to do a story in Kansas next week and wants to have everyone over. I need to do a landscaping estimate, and I thought

I’d swing in to invite you and the ’rents to dinner. But they must be out grocery shopping or something.” Deirdre flopped onto the couch, bouncing the cushions, nearly spilling coffee down the front of Julie. “So I thought I’d hang out here for a while until they come home.”

“What if I have plans, Dee? You ever think of that?” Julie hadn’t meant for the question to sound so accusatory, but damn, didn’t her family think she had a life of her own?

“Sure, well … sorry. I just saw your car in the driveway and came over to say

‘hello.’”

“Well, I was thinking about going out tonight.”

“You have a date?”

“Don’t sound so surprised. I do have a social life. His name’s Damon.” The deception heated her cheeks.

“Sorry.” Deirdre dragged out the word into two long syllables.

Deirdre’s sulky tone washed more guilt over Julie. “Forget it. You’re right. We didn’t make any definite plans for tonight. I’m not doing anything.” Julie set the box on the floor and turned up the television.

“What’s in the box?”

“Some old high school stuff, nothing much.” Julie shrugged, not wanting to talk with

Dee about Jason. She focused on the television and flipped channels with the remote.

“…WKOR’s own Demon Jones … morning prime time…” Flashes of Demon’s face came up on the screen as a commercial broke into the morning programming.

“Boo. Hiss.” Deirdre blew a raspberry at the screen. “The man’s a menace to society.”

“You know him?” Julie asked. She shifted on the couch, her body reacting immediately to the memory of his full lips on her.

“No, I don’t know him.” Deirdre sounded appalled.

“Then how can you judge him?”

“Obviously, sister, you’ve never listened to his drivel that passes as entertainment.

He’s an opinionated, misogynistic, sexist punk who does nothing but degrade humankind on his show.” She threw the banana peel at the television where it stuck to Demon’s dimpled smile before sliding down the glass and landing on the wooden floor.

“Sheesh. Tell me how you really feel, Dee.”

* * * *

Damon had gone for a run, stacked the recyclables, washed both the Harley and the

Saturn, even scrubbed the bathroom and vacuumed through the tiny condo. All before eleven a.m. But nothing eased the itchy feeling of Julie crawling under his skin. Looking for companionship after getting his rocks off wasn’t Damon’s usual MO. But then again, the women he usually slept with didn’t have an IQ higher than their weight. Julie definitely had the body, but it was her compassion for her friend that had been the magnet pulling him into her arms.

He looked up her number. Thought about calling, but that was stupid. The woman was obviously only interested in a one-night stand. Dressed the way she was, he had no doubt that was how she liked to spend her Friday nights—fast, hot, unencumbered sex.

That’s all he’d hoped for last night as well. So why was he holding the phone in his hand and sweating like a teenager with a crush? He slammed it into the cradle and decided to go for another run.

Fresh from his second shower, he sat at the only piece of furniture in the living room—the grand piano. Perhaps a little Def Leopard or some classic Stones could ease the ache of a woman. Damon didn’t need to pull sheet music from the bench seat. He’d been playing this instrument far too long not to be able to practice for hours without a single note in front of him.

He let his mind wander, his fingers making the notes in his head a reality. He watched his hands caress the keys, but saw only the ivory white of Julie’s fingers wrapped around his cock. He swayed with the crescendo of the music, hearing only

Julie’s cries of ecstasy as she writhed beneath him.

“Fuck!” His fists slammed down on the keys, and the piano yelled in protest. Not a nice way to treat his livelihood. But confusion rained his fists down again. Getting involved with a woman, no matter how beautiful, was a stupid idea. His stay in Delmont was temporary at best.

He stalked from the room, grabbing his helmet on his way to the garage.

* * * *

Dust motes danced on the morning sun filling the kitchen. Rainbows of color reflected in soap bubbles in the sink as Julie set the last of the breakfast dishes in the drainer. She still wasn’t sure how Dee had talked her into pancakes and cartoons. But that

was her little sister.

She should go out and do something. Pick up groceries. Lounge at the lake with a picnic lunch and a book. But none of that held any interest for her.

The box beckoned to her from the living room. There was nothing in it. How would she ever unravel the mystery of Jason? She had had such high hopes with Elvis. But he’d given her nothing but a pitiful container of memories. What was she missing?

Padding into the other room, she hauled the box out from under the corner table where she’d tucked it. She hadn’t wanted Dee to ask her any questions. Her sisters already believed she was nothing but an old maid. Wouldn’t they laugh when they found out she’d turned into super sleuth to solve a mysterious death that everyone had written off a month ago? The hushed whispers about Jason had finally stopped churning in the rumor mill. She should be one of those to let it slip into obscurity. But she couldn’t.

Julie picked up the video. A little walk down memory lane never hurt anyone. This she might enjoy—high school home movies. She pushed the tape into the VCR half of her media player and hit play.

A picture of the high school gym filled the television screen. The bleachers were crammed with proud parents staring down at a gym floor overflowing with the elementary, middle and high school band members in their red and white uniforms. The date in the corner of the tape informed viewers this was the Christmas concert from her freshman year in high school when the braces made it difficult to play her flute. Julie groaned at the memory.

She hit fast forward. Concerts weren’t exciting when she participated in them. She had no intention of sitting through one on tape. People moved in choppy paces, fingers flew over keys on instruments, feet scurried in jerky tempos, and heads bobbed mechanically back and forth. She giggled. Too bad all unpleasant things in life couldn’t be avoided this way.

The picture of the gym morphed into bodies. Two bodies. Two naked male bodies in profile. Both pistoning their hips much too fast for comfort.

Julie hit the play button on the remote, and the picture went to normal speed. The sounds of sexual pleasure pounded out of the television speakers. She hit pause. Frozen in time, Jason stood with his arms around the man bent over in front of him. His right arm pulled him tight against his belly, while his left hand wrapped around the thick shaft of the man’s erection. She shut the television off and paced. Her heart and heels pounded out the same quick tempo.

“Julie, this is none of your business.” Her thumbs pressed into her eye sockets, trying to push away the intimate image of her friend. “But maybe this has something to do with

Jason’s death.” Julie didn’t know he was gay. Was he gay? Or was something here just a little off-kilter?

She forced herself to return to the couch and rewind the tape until the dimly lit room with two men pleasuring each other morphed back into the gym. She pressed the play button again and watched the band members fade away to an empty room.

“That’s not why I’m here, man,” a male voice said off camera.

“A little reunion sex, Jase. I’ve missed you.”

Laughter. “Your hand on my dick is making a very persuasive argument.”

Heavy breathing and a shirt flew past the lens, settling on the potted plant.

“But here? You sure it’s safe?” Julie recognized that as Jason’s voice.

“Jesus, Jase, of course it’s safe. Just shut up and fuck me.”

Entwined bodies moved into view, hands shucking off jeans until both men stood bare as the day they were born in front of the leather couch. Oh, sweet mother, Julie recognized that inviting leather couch that felt like warm chocolate on your skin. Her nipples peaked at the thought. She’d been with Damon on that couch—in Elvis’ office.

She fell back against her sofa, the weight of her discovery more than she could bear. Was there a chance her encounter with Damon had also been taped? She didn’t want to think about that right now and pushed the thought away, concentrating instead on the scene on the television.

From this side angle, she couldn’t see their faces, but she’d known Jason too long not to recognize his well-developed torso and strong jawline. Her stomach clenched. This was too personal to watch, but too seductive to turn from.

Jason pulled the man’s back tight to him and buried his face in the long curls of black. “You want my cock in your ass? That what you missed while I’ve been away?”

The man arched against Jason’s erection. “You know it.” He leaned over the couch and offered himself to Jason. His hair fell forward and covered his silhouette.

Jason sheathed himself in latex while the man stroked his quivering cock. “You get me so fucking hot, Jase, no one else.”

Jason pressed two mouth-wet fingers to his partner’s puckered hole, and the man pushed back, impaling himself on Jason’s hand. “Quit with the foreplay. Just fuck me, Jase.”

Jason licked up the man’s back and laved the tattoo on his partner’s shoulder as his fingers continued their assault. His other hand wound around the man’s belly and linked his fingers around his partner’s. Jason’s erection rocked against the man’s balls. Jason’s fingers and hand and hips pulsed in the same slow rhythm.

Their actions were so intimate, not meant for others to see, but she couldn’t turn away. Julie found herself squirming. This was men going at it, but it made her own sex heavy and wet. She pressed a hand to the crotch of her pajamas and sucked in a deep breath of her scent. Her hips undulated and rubbed the sensitive nub against the tips of her exploring fingers. Unsatisfied at the limited contact, she reached under the waistband to her heated flesh and massaged her clitoris, the pearled nub standing erect, begging for attention.

“If you want this to last, you may want to ease up on my dick.” Words from the television.

“You complaining?”

“Fuck, no! But you … I want you in me, Jase. Stop this shit and fuck me.” The words were staccato bursts of sound between gasping breaths.

Jason removed his fingers from the man’s glistening hole and pushed the mushroom head of his penis against the opening. “I gotta admit … I love the feel of your ass around my dick.” A shiver shook Jason’s body as he slid his erection up and down between the man’s ass cheeks.

Julie’s fingers worked faster on her clitoris. Juices poured from her and dampened through the pajama bottoms. She’d never watched anyone before, and the men satisfying each other made her hornier than she’d been in a long time.

“Now, Jase … fuck me … before I blow.” The man’s voice was hoarse from begging.

Jason pushed into him. Slowly, leisurely. Julie bucked her own hips as if Jason had entered her.

“Damn, always so fucking tight. You okay?” Jason paused for only a second, the concern in his voice genuine.

“Hell, yeah … more … give it to me, Jase. Fuck me.” The man pushed back on

Jason, burying Jason’s cock up to his balls. Both men moaned. Then there was only the slap of flesh on flesh and the sweet strains of sexual pleasure singing on the air.

Julie’s own groans of climax mixed with the men. Her internal muscles clenched, shooting shudders of pleasure rocketing to her extremities. The wave of ecstasy grew, sending her careening into a bone-shattering orgasm that blocked out even the sounds of the men succumbing to their own release.

When the world came back into focus, Jason and his partner had morphed back into the high school gym. Julie was left listening to the middle school band’s off-key rendition of “God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen.”

Chapter 5

The music blared through the speakers while the vacuum cleaner hummed along the carpet. Julie did a stutter step with the lively Charlie Daniels’ song about the devil with fire flying from his fingertips—

Demon Jones

. She sighed at the man who had been her first one-nighter. She was a modern woman of the twenty-first century. Having unencumbered sex with a stranger shouldn’t be affecting her this way. Love ’em and leave ’em, or was it love the one you’re with? Either way, she shouldn’t be wondering what Damon was up to. He’d made it perfectly clear last night he was only looking for a little sexual release. He probably didn’t even remember her name.

Though he had been nice—sweet, even—when he’d accompanied her to the Escort, carrying the box Elvis had sent up with one of his employees. Damon held the door and kissed her tenderly, before tucking her safely away. She’d wanted to ask him out for a late cup of coffee, but somehow it seemed too clingy. Men never wanted anything complicated. Well, she could do that, carefree and uncomplicated. The new her. Julie sighed. Maybe she’d go over to Starry Knights tonight and find another man instead of going to Deirdre’s barbeque. Wouldn’t that throw the family?

“Julie’s as predictable as time, brilliant as the sun, comfortable as an old pair of slippers, with enough self restraint to hold back the tide.” Julie repeated the monotonous words. For as long as she could remember, her mother introduced her this way. At one time they made her feel important. Now they made her sound like an old dotard ready for spinsterhood.

“Julie, you in there?” The pounding on the window startled her.

“Yeah, hold on a minute.” She flipped off the vacuum, turned down the stereo and rushed for the front door.

As soon as Julie turned the deadbolt, Meghan tumbled inside. “Hey, grab your stuff.

We’re heading over to Deirdre’s early.” Meghan swiveled her head as if looking for something. “Why’d you lock the door? You don’t have company, do you?”

Julie had locked both doors when she’d watched Jason’s video a second time. It wouldn’t do to have her family see him that way.

“I was getting ready for Dee’s. I always lock the front door when I go out.” My, how easily lies tumbled one after another once they started rolling off the tongue.

* * * *

Damon couldn’t clear his head. Even the roar of the engine and the excessive speeds couldn’t force Julie Tilling from his thoughts or cool his heated blood. He’d taken a stranger upstairs to screw, but ended up walking a woman he wanted to spend more time with out to her car. He’d never found himself in this situation, wishing he could take about five steps back in the sequence of events and begin with a simple dinner date.

Julie’s blasé attitude had been stripped away with her clothes. Wanting to see the real woman, he’d taken off her wig before he’d … screwed? That seemed too crude … Well, whatever it was, he’d done it a second time before they’d scurried into their clothes. As they waited for Elvis, Julie’s gentle probing and genuine inquisitiveness knicked at his

armor, and he ended up talking about how much he hated his job. He hadn’t shared that with anyone.

The motorcycle rounded the corner of the neighborhood lined with maple trees and cookie-cutter houses in a neat row. Not the typical sprawling Maine community with old rambling farm houses. This one must have been designed by an out-of-state developer who only cared about the bottom line, not the picturesque beauty New Englanders enjoyed.

The bike stopped in front of 1694 Wicker Way.

Julie Tilling

. He didn’t know he’d intended on coming here. But now that he was here—yeah, now that he was here—now what? It would be foolish to drive off now. Not when the curtains on several of the front windows up and down the street were pulled back. People driving Harleys didn’t usually keep their arrivals a secret. Especially not when they held the power Damon had humming between his legs.

He kicked down the stand and removed his helmet. Step one. Now what? He should have called. Was she watching him, wondering if he was stalking her? Filling his lungs with courage, he walked up the front steps and rang the bell. No answer. He knocked. No answer.

Damon didn’t know anything about this woman. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in summer. Her social calendar was probably filled.

Dumb

. He’d been thinking with the wrong head. This had been such a bad idea. He should go home, drink down a few brews to salve his battered ego and head out to a bar for some wild partying.

Right

.

More likely he’d do what he did every Saturday he didn’t have a gig, spend it banging out old show tunes on the grand piano.

“You looking for someone, son?” The older gentleman standing in the driveway next door inquired.

“Julie Tilling.”

“You got business with her?’

“I’m Damon Corey, a friend of Julie’s.” Damon strode to the man and offered his hand.

“John Tilling.” The man had a firm grip. “Damon, you say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, you just missed her. Was she expecting you?”

“I was in town and wanted to surprise her. But I’ll give her a call and see if we can hook up later.”

“You dating my daughter?”

That wasn’t expected. “Well, if you call one date dating…” He couldn’t lie.

“Deirdre said Julie mentioned she was dating a Damon. I assume that’s you.”

Dating?

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, Julie’s over at the family farm. We’re headed over there now. I’m sure she wouldn’t want to miss your visit.” If Damon wasn’t mistaken, a twinkle sparked in the old man’s eye. “Why don’t you follow us?”

* * * *

She supposed this was a good way to spend a summer evening. Julie loved her family. It’s why she’d come back to Delmont after she finished school. There was nothing wrong with this life. Lots of people would be happy and satisfied. So why wasn’t

she?

“Okay, you two, enough of that kissing,” Peter shouted from the corner of the lawn where he was poised to win the second croquet match in a row. “Just knock Brianna’s ball across the lawn, Dee. No apologies necessary.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me would you?” Bri batted her lashes at Dee.

“Everything’s fair in love and croquet, Bri.” Deirdre placed her booted foot on her ball that lay in the plush grass next to Bri’s. The croquet mallet came down hard, and the impact sent Bri’s ball sailing into the bushes.

“I give up. Peter’s going to win again, anyway.” Bri dropped her mallet in the rack.

“Hey, perfect timing, your parents are here. I’ll go in and grab the steaks.”

“Oh, come on, can’t I at least get the satisfaction of kicking some female butt?” Peter yelled.

Meghan threw her mallet toward Peter. “You always win. Why don’t you stack the wickets while I help in the kitchen?”

Julie was already gathering the wire arches off the lawn.

“Anyone want anything to drink while I’m inside?” Meghan called.

“Beer,” Peter called as he pulled the stakes from the ground.

“Make that two.” John Tilling rounded the corner of the house.

“Julie, you want anything?”

“You got any iced tea?”

“Still drinking those iced teas?”

Julie spun to the deep voice washing down her back like honey. “Damon?” The panic riding on his name was painfully obvious.

“Nice to see you too, Julie.” He stepped up to her and kissed her cheek. “Make this look good. Your dad thinks we’re dating, for some reason.” The words spoken into her ear shimmied down her spine.

“What a nice surprise. I thought you couldn’t make it,” Julie spoke loud enough for everyone to hear, then leaned in to press her heated cheek against the stubble of his chin.

“What the hell are you doing with my parents?”

“Haven’t figured that one out myself.”

* * * *

Wind whipped past his body, but the thrill of speed was nothing compared to having the heat of Julie pressed against his back. The vise-grip hug of her arms spurred him into reckless abandon. The faster he pushed the Harley, the tighter she clung, her legs intimately pressed to his thighs. And all he could think about was getting her alone and naked. But perhaps that wasn’t what she had in mind.

He was taking her home. Maybe the night would end there, but he hoped not. It was still early. The sun hid behind the tree line, throwing ribbons of color over the clouds.

The day still had a tenuous grasp of the sky even as the purple shades of night fought for control in the east.

“That one.” Julie’s arm pointed to the house he already knew. She jumped off the seat before he had a chance to shut off the engine. “Well, that was fun.” But her shaky voice betrayed her true feelings.

“You ever ride a motorcycle, Julie?”

She pulled off the helmet and fluffed her hair. The corkscrew curls of copper were so

much more interesting than the wig that had covered them.

“Not one this fast.”

“No, I meant any motorcycle.”

“Was it that obvious?” Color rose from her chest and deepened her already flushed cheeks.

“I like to be a woman’s first.” Even without the clothes, the sunglasses, the slicked-

back hair, Demon’s persona had a bad habit of popping up at inopportune moments.

Julie stopped contemplating her toes and stared straight at him. Emotions fluttered over her face and clouded her eyes, but he didn’t know her well enough to read between the lines. He’d just met this wonderful woman. He hadn’t intended to scare her off.

“Julie, I…”

“No, Damon. You don’t have to apologize. I get it.”

Okay, this emotion he understood. The lady was pissed. But a crude remark shouldn’t elicit this response.

“You have a lot of women available to you, I’m sure they’re much more experienced than me. There’s no reason to make fun.” The anger flashed in her eyes. “You weren’t really expecting the person you found at the family homestead

?” She emphasized the last two words as if they were obscenities. “The Jewel of last night was more your speed. I

get that.”

“No, Julie, I…”

Her hand flew up between them. “No, Damon, you don’t owe me anything.

Obviously my father dragged you into an uncomfortable situation. Well, you’ve done your social obligation. I’m home safe and sound. I didn’t mean to disappoint, but I have a hard time living up to everyone’s expectations of who I should be. So, thanks. I get it.

Good night.” The helmet landed in his lap.

“No, Julie, really, you don’t understand.” He yelled at her retreating back. “Julie, wait.” Damon attempted to jump from the bike, but the stand wasn’t down, and his lap held the extra helmet. “Damn it all to hell. Julie…” He finally managed to extricate himself from the bike and the helmets and caught her just as she pushed open the front door. “Please. I think you’ve misunderstood. Just give me a minute to explain. Then I’ll leave.”

Her arms knotted across her chest for protection. A wounded heart? He’d have to tread carefully. The emerald eyes shimmering in the waning light telegraphed her pain, but her lips were pursed thin with determination. The woman was a walking enigma.

Damon suspected she had no idea how damn sexy she looked standing there, inviting him to explain himself—daring him to breach her defenses.

“Look, Julie. I’m not going to lie to you. Demon Jones is very popular with the ladies. Damon Corey … not so much. If you’re looking for the person I was last night, well, you’re in for a big surprise. He’s as fake as Santa Claus.”

“I still believe in Santa Claus.”

She would. “The Easter bunny, then.”

“But he doesn’t try to pass himself off as anything but the chocolate peddler that he is. I don’t think any hearts have ever been broken by the Easter bunny.”

“Julie…” Damon’s hand found its way to her cheek, his fingers tangling in her hair.

She smelled earthy and fresh, and he gulped in great breaths of heaven, not sure he could ever completely fill his lungs. When he pressed his lips to hers, she didn’t resist. Julie

opened to him, and their tongues meshed and explored, and he walked her backward into the living room and shut out the neighbor’s prying eyes.

“Damon.” The husky way she spoke sent blood rushing from his head straight to his throbbing dick. He wanted her like no woman he’d known.

“Julie, I haven’t stopped thinking about you all day. You crawled into my head last night, and all I’ve thought about is how to get a repeat performance.”

She pulled from him, her lips swollen from his assault. “I don’t do this…” Her hand stirred the heated air between them. “…very well. I’ve been told I’m not good at it. I

think you lucked out last night.”

He scooped her into his arms. “Oh, you let me be the judge of that. And your bedroom would be where?” He was already heading down the hall.

All she kept thinking as he laid her on the bed was

Sex twice in less than twenty-four hours—how very wicked.

Even when she’d been in a relationship, she hadn’t been this bold. But the man removing his shirt and molding to her body didn’t allow any time for her to second-guess this decision. Who cared if they didn’t know each other? He wanted her. She wanted him buried deep inside her. When it came right down to brass tacks, who truly knew anyone?

“Forgive me for saying. But this tank top and flirty shorts have been driving me insane all night. So much more alluring than the show-all outfit you had on last night.

Every time you bent down, I’d sneak a peak at one luscious curve or another.” Damon’s tongue traced the skin exposed by the open collar of her shirt. “And these legs. Long and smooth and just right for wrapping around a man.”

“You do have a way with words.”

He stared at her. “Julie, they’re not just words. I mean it. I don’t think you realize just how beautiful you are.” His fingers swept the hair from her face. “I’ll admit the wanton sex goddess cavorting on the dance floor definitely got my attention. But it was the compassionate woman worried over a friend that cinched it.”

The man was a womanizer. Not that she cared at the moment as he lay bare-chested on her bed, manipulating her emotions and her body into a frenzied confusion of lust.

“Damon, you’ve got me here. You’ve sealed the deal. Superfluous flattery isn’t necessary.” Julie forced out a laugh.

“Julie, stop it.” Damon swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. “Stop putting yourself down.” Frustration had him plowing fingers through his hair. “I’ve been used before, but it didn’t matter, because I knew the score before the game began. I just thought you were different. I was hoping ours wasn’t going to be that kind of cat and mouse game.”

“Damon, I’m sorry.” She leaned into his back, her lips grazing the smooth curve of muscle. She kissed her way over the tattoo on his shoulder to whisper in his ear. “No one, and I mean no one, not even my family, has seen this many sides of Julie Tilling. I didn’t mean to reveal so much. It’s just a little … disconcerting.”

“Julie.” He turned to face her. “People aren’t always who they seem. Look at me for chrissake. I didn’t come here today to lure you into bed…” He laughed. “Okay, that’s a lie.” He cupped her face in his hands. “This is what I want and not because I thought you were easy. Thoughts of you vibrate up my spine, and I can’t make them go away. I don’t want that to go away. It feels nice being with someone this way. It’s new, and I like it.”

Laying his forehead on hers, his breath feathered across her lips. “I really like you

, and I

want to show you how beautiful and desirable you are. We skipped several rungs of the dating ladder last night, hell, probably leaped without one, but it doesn’t make this any less real. Just accept where we are.”

“This is new to me, Damon, but I can try.” Her heart did a stutter-step in her chest.

Damon’s hand molded to her breast, peaking the nipple with a pinch. Her breath came in gasped moans of pleasure. Damon’s talented hands had her disrobed before she thought about being self-conscious of her nakedness. His lips and teeth and hands stroked her into a frenzied pitch of need. There was only him and the heated compliments whispered against her skin.

His tongue laved her hip bone as his thick fingers tangled into the auburn thatch of hair. Her nails bit deep into his muscles as the pleasure Damon elicited rippled over her nerves. Her thighs trembled with the wet heat dampening her skin. Damon shucked off his jeans, his cock standing tall and proud. She reached out, anticipating the glorious weight of him, but he spread her legs wide before settling between them.

“Lovemaking later, Jules. I want you to prop yourself on some pillows and watch me ravage your body.” Damon nipped at her inner thigh, and she did as he instructed. He pushed her legs wide, his fingers spreading her pussy lips.

“Like a flower, sweet nectar for sipping.” He teased her pubic hair with his lips.

She closed her eyes, sliding into the anonymity of darkness.

“No, don’t. Look at me. Promise me you won’t close your eyes.”

She lifted her heavy lids, staring down into the amber depths of his eyes. “I promise to do my best.” A smile fluttered across her lips.

His tongue came up her slit, and her hips canted in response.

“Your best effort is all I ask.”

One hand spread her wide, exposing her sensitive bud, while the other dipped two thick fingers into her hot hole. His lips came down on her and sucked her sensitive pearl into his mouth. Pleasure surged outward like hot current along her nerves. The visual stimulation of Damon’s flickering tongue added another dimension to the heavy ache pulling at her internal muscles.

His fingers dragged her slick moisture lower and circled the puckered hole of her ass.

No one had ever touched her there, and she gasped out his name as he pushed on the sensitive muscle.

“You like that?”

The sensation was amazing. She nodded, biting down on her bottom lip, unsuccessfully trying to hold back the sighs of bliss he drew from her. His tongue worked the tingling nub with skill while his fingers pushed past the tight barrier, and she arched her back, moans of ecstasy shuddering from her parted lips. Damon’s mouth and hands sent waves of heaven rolling over her muscles. As her tension mounted, her hips bucked against his assault, but he never lost contact with her.

Every time his fingers pushed into the rosebud of her ass, she thrust herself down, pushing him deeper. His teeth nipped at her clitoris, sending pinpoints of delicious pain to her fingers and toes, only to have his tongue suckle and sooth. He continued the onslaught, driving her into a tortured frenzied pitch of need until she was circling the precarious precipice of elation. All she wanted was to tumble into that blessed bliss of release, but each time she neared the torturous edge, Damon pulled back.

She gasped out his name, begging him to bring her to release. Damon’s tongue

flicked repeatedly over her clit. He pushed fingers simultaneously into both her quaking holes, filling her in a new and glorious way. Her muscles spasmed, and she shouted out in wild abandon as the orgasm tore through her. Damon was relentless, and just as the bliss waned, his fingers and teeth and tongue pulled her back to the edge and threw her once again into the black abyss of delirium. Each time she shattered in ecstasy, he gathered the fragments, only to tear her apart again. How many times she climaxed, she didn’t know.

But he continued until she begged him to stop—begged him to never let go of her.

Chapter 6

“So that’s all you got?” Damon lay naked across from her on the bed. The meager contents of the box—sans tape—were strewn between them. She wasn’t ready to come to terms with the images on the video, let alone share them with a man she barely knew.

“How’d you know him?” Damon asked.

“We were best friends.”

Damon traced a finger around her nipple. “Best friends with benefits?”

“Eww.” She slapped his hand away and laughed. “Jason was like my brother. Our mums were best friends and did everything together. Jason and I used to share the same playpen, but nothing more.”

Damon bent and kissed her knee. “What about later?”

“Best buds don’t date. Neither of us even considered it.” But now, thinking about it, Julie wondered if perhaps there was something more to that. She blew out a breath to clear that line of thinking. Jason couldn’t have been gay and Julie not know it.

“We did everything together,” Julie continued. “Between the two of us we ran the

Key Club, the yearbook, the thespian and honor societies and a bunch of other stuff in high school. The only time we kissed was during a production of

Bye, Bye, Birdie

, and that was so staged that by the time we’d done it for four months, there was no heat to it.”

Emotion clogged her throat. “Well … and the New Year’s Eve of my junior year in college.” Tears welled in her eyes at the memory.

“So you guys did date for awhile?” He brushed a tear from her cheek, misinterpreting her tears.

“The kiss?” She let out a nasal laugh. “Nothing sexual about that one, either.”

Damon stacked his fists on her thigh and rested his chin on them. The compassion shimmering in his eyes invited her to tell him everything.

“It had to do with another guy.” Julie swallowed the pain burning in her throat. “I’d been dating him for almost a year. I’d wrapped my life around his. He was graduating in the spring and moving out west.” Julie played with Damon’s curls. “I was looking at grad schools out there so we could be together. So when he made these elaborate plans to come to Maine and see me during the Christmas break, I was sure he was going to propose.” She lifted her shoulder, trying to act more nonchalant than she felt.

“Instead of giving me a ring, he broke up with me. Told me he had been dating someone else on and off for a couple months.” Her cheeks puffed as she emptied her lungs. “I gotta tell you, that stung. I knew I was naïve, but blind?” She picked up a picture and fiddled with the edges. “I was such a mess, and the only person I could talk to was Jason. He cancelled his New Year’s Eve plans and took me out instead.” She inhaled a shuddering breath. Even after all these years, the pain of her boyfriend’s rejection still stabbed at her heart. “Jason spent a horrible night consoling me. We kissed at midnight, but it was to comfort, not seduce. He was such a good friend.” Damon’s long fingers smoothed over her thigh, and it was her undoing. A sob escaped.

“Please don’t.”

Damon pulled his hand away and swung to a sitting position.

“I can see the pity in your eyes.” She shook a finger at him. “Don’t feel sorry for me.

Not about losing my best friend and especially not about a fiancé that never was.”

Damon’s fingers blazed a leisurely path up her side and over her shoulder, to settle comfortably behind her neck. His thumb caressed her jawbone as he pulled her to his mouth. His persuasive tongue explored and soothed. He pulled away from her and gently kissed the tip of her nose. “Julie, I’m not feeling sorry for you. I’m just thinking what a loser your old boyfriend was, and what a lucky guy I am.”

“I’m the lucky one, Damon.” Julie’s finger traced the outline of the tattoo on

Damon’s shoulder. The same mark she’d seen on the tape. Her stomach clenched. She hadn’t wanted to acknowledge that Damon could be the other guy at Elvis’ office. Julie had ignored the tattoo for the last couple of hours, immersing herself in Damon’s lovemaking, wanting more of what he’d been offering. He certainly knew his way around a woman’s erogenous zones. But there was no denying that this man curled around her body could have been the man with Jason. And if he was, then Damon knew a hell of a lot more than he was letting on.

“Hey, yoo-hoo, Julie.” Damon waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Where’d you go?”

Julie forced her mouth to curve. “I don’t suppose you have any horrible relationship stories.”

Damon rolled away and threw his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m a guy. We always have horrible relationship stories.”

His abruptness startled her. Did she really want to know if this man who had loved her over the past several hours had also had an affair with her best friend? Damon’s actions didn’t feel like an act to uncover information. But perhaps the seduction thing was a means to that end. Except for Deirdre, she knew nothing of bisexuality.

Her fingers hesitantly skimmed the muscle ticking in his jaw. “Forget it, Damon.

Sometimes I’m just too curious for my own good.”

He toyed with the fringe on the pillow between them, but didn’t meet her gaze.

“There aren’t many guys I know who don’t have something illicit in their past that they regret. But I probably have more than most.” He lifted a shoulder.

“Sounds like you just had your share of fun.”

“Let’s just say my college years weren’t fertile soil for establishing good morals and leave it at that.” His clipped tone shut her out.

Not wanting to spoil the magic, she let it drop. In just two days, this man had made her feel important … special … loved. No, not loved. Men like Damon didn’t fall in love.

However she defined this euphoria, she didn’t want to lose it now over something that at the moment seemed very trivial. Reaching out, she smoothed the lines on his forehead, and he turned into her hand, kissing her palm.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” he said. “I just don’t want to think about my past. Not now, anyway.” He leaned on his elbow and kissed her hip.

She should stop this fiasco and not let her heart cloud her thinking. Heads needed to be clear to work through a puzzle. But the heat of Damon’s lips on her belly sent currents of desire straight to her pleasure centers, turning her brain cells to mush. She should be asking him about the tattoo—not thinking about the way his body fit so naturally with hers.

Damon cleared his throat and leaned back. “Ah, no. As much as I want you again…”

He looked down at his sizeable erection and smiled. “—our goal was to focus on this.”

He brought her attention back to the articles on the bed.

Disappointment and confusion weighed down her shoulders. Maybe Damon did have something to do with Jason. She scooched back, hoping the distance would clear her head. “Do you really think there are clues buried in here?”

Damon picked up a couple of photographs. “I’m not sure we’re going to come to a different conclusion from the police, but we should probably go through all this again.

Elvis must have given it to you for a reason.”

“Yes, good idea. Focus.” Julie tamped down her libido with the air filling her lungs.

Until she understood how Damon, Jason and Elvis were connected, and she did believe they all knew each other, she would troll the waters of sexual conquests with caution. No sense baiting a shark without the right equipment.

“Okay, here’s what I know,” she said. “Jason was finishing up his medical internship. He had every intention of coming back to Delmont to take over his father’s private practice. He just couldn’t have given up on life. I don’t understand why everyone thinks that was possible.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Julie. There sure as hell doesn’t seem to be a smoking gun in here.” Damon shuffled around the photos. “You didn’t happen to find a tape or anything?”

Julie choked on her incredulity. “Why would you ask that?”

Damon made a peace sign with both hands and shook his head. “I am no crook.” He laughed. “You know … Nixon and the Watergate tapes?”

She breathed deeply, trying to still her hammering heart. It was a joke. “This isn’t funny, Damon. My friend’s dead. The box is marked Tilling. Jason wanted my family to have this stuff. But why Elvis grabbed it from Jason’s condo that night is beyond me.”

“Maybe you’re not the only one who thinks something’s just a little off about this.”

Damon cocked a brow. “Obviously, Elvis thought someone might find something in this junk. Though I don’t know how old pictures and a yearbook will offer any clues.”

Mischief lifted the corners of Damon’s mouth. “I bet you’re in here somewhere.” He began leafing through pages, but Julie snatched the book away.

“Don’t you dare.” She held the book at arm’s length. “I don’t know you well enough to expose that part of myself to you.”

He gave up grabbing for the book, and his mouth nuzzled her nipple. “I’m thinking you’ve exposed just about the most intimate parts of yourself, Miss Julie Tilling.”

She wanted to melt into this. Let his mouth bring her back to the blissful detachment of not thinking of anything but pleasure, but somehow she felt time slipping through her fingers. “Damon.” She bent and kissed the silky black of his hair. “We already said we can’t do this. Besides, it’s almost eleven, and I know my mother’s watching out the window to see when you leave. Notice the phone hasn’t rung once while you’ve been here.” It had been peaceful without her sisters chiming in to grill her about Damon.

“They wouldn’t.”

“Oh, they would. And they do. When your motorcycle pulls out of here, the Tilling tag-team phone system goes into action. My sisters are just chomping at the bit to find out the juicy details. They at least have the good grace not to call while you’re still here.”

She picked up the folded Mickey Mouse ears. “Now, what can we glean from this stuff?”

Opening them, she lifted them over her head and something rolled down her torso, dropping in her lap.

She picked up the prescription bottle, rotating it to read the label. “Jason McCarty,

lithium … take one twice daily.” Julie looked at Damon. “Isn’t lithium prescribed for depression?”

“Umm, depression, bi-polar disorder, yeah, stuff like that.” Damon’s expression softened. “Julie, maybe Jason was depressed, and he really did do this to himself.” His hand slid down her arm.

“I suppose…” Melancholy sagged her shoulders. “Maybe I can find out something from the prescribing physician.” Julie looked closely at the bottle. “It’s a Dr. Maura

Wells.”

“What?” Damon shot up and grabbed the bottle.

“You know, talk to the physician.”

“Dr. Maura Wells.” He dragged the name over his tongue as if tasting the repercussions.

“Do you know her?”

“She’s Elvis’ silent partner at Starry Knights.”

* * * *

Damon paced the carpet in Elvis’ office. After meeting Julie’s family this afternoon, he’d had every intention of coming here tonight and collecting what was his from Elvis and destroying it. He just hadn’t thought he’d be bringing this tantalizing woman with him and embroiling her in his hornet’s nest.

Julie’s face wrinkled with some emotion he couldn’t identify, and she shifted nervously on the chair where he’d put her. The couch was off-limits. There was no way in hell Elvis was getting another show. Anger twisted in Damon’s gut. How could he have used Julie that way? He’d like to think he would have destroyed the evidence of their tryst, but Damon was pretty sure that hadn’t been his intention when he’d knowingly laid her out on the leather couch last night and boffed her quite satisfactorily.

Only now he realized—it had been more than that.

“Julie, Demon, what an unexpected pleasure.” Elvis strode into the room. “Have you come to do an encore performance, Demon? The DJ platform is always open to you, my friend.”

“I left Demon at home.” Damon held out his arms and modeled. The faded Levis and

T-shirt weren’t the Demon’s style. No one ever recognized him when he was clean-

shaven, with his thick hair pulled back neatly in a ponytail, and the wire-framed glasses instead of his contacts. He had been grateful the Tilling clan hadn’t figured out his identity. “I’m not sure you’re going to be too happy to see me when this is finished.”

Damon wasn’t sure Julie would like what she was about to hear, either.

“Oh, my, Damon, that sounds ominous.” Elvis’ hand fluttered over his heart. His long legs carried him to the minibar in the corner of his office. “Perhaps I can get you both something before we get started?”

“I’ve come to collect what belongs to me,” Damon said. “And ask you a couple of questions about Julie’s friend, Jason.”

“Ah, I assume you found some clues to Jason’s untimely death in the box?” Elvis asked innocently, his hand pausing only momentarily as he reached for a glass.

Julie stood and began pacing around the chair. Heavy sighs puffed her cheeks. The woman was restless, and Damon had no idea what had set her feet in motion.

Ice clinked precisely into the crystal glass Elvis held, clicking off the seconds of

tension filling the room. “Yes, well, it is Saturday night, and I’m very busy.” Elvis smiled, but it held no humor. In all the time Damon had known the man, he’d never seen the contempt that contorted his face at this moment.

“Don’t give me that shit, Elvis. You’ve got a few minutes to spare for a friend.”

“Oh, is that what we are tonight, Damon?

Friends

?” Elvis stretched the word out of his trembling mouth. “From that tone, I’d thought we’d gone into business mode.” Elvis set the glass down and looked over at the woman wringing her hands. “Julie, did Damon happen to share with you the details of our relationship?”

“Elvis, now wait one Goddamn minute…”

“I take that as a ‘no.’” Elvis’ smile was venomous.

What the hell was going on? Damon had come here to talk to Elvis about Maura and

Jason and collect the recording of himself and Julie. Skipping down memory lane with

Elvis wasn’t something he wanted to do with Julie in the room. Damon headed for Elvis, intent on strangling the man before he could get out another word, but Julie’s gasp stopped him mid stride. The truth was going to come out whether Damon wanted it to or not. He should have told her the truth when he had the opportunity tonight.

“I … I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Elvis.” Julie’s fingers worried her rings.

Elvis flashed a smug look at Damon. “No, I don’t suppose you do,” he said, splashing two fingers of gin over the ice and adding tonic water. The motions were slow and deliberate, dragging out the confusion until it stood between Damon and Julie like a wall.

“Julie…” Damon had no idea what to say to her. “Whatever he says…”

Elvis ignored Damon’s stammering. “Like she’s going to believe a word you say. A

man intent on conquering a woman and adding her to his proverbial notched belt holds no credibility with someone as innocent as Julie.” Elvis sipped nonchalantly from the glass.

“Has any of your pillow talk included the exploits of your college years, or does she know only the Damon side of you? Hmm?”

Damon shook his head. Elvis couldn’t possibly intend to betray his confidence this way. He’d managed to pull Julie away from that line of questioning only hours ago. Now, it seemed Elvis was going to do the job he’d avoided. “Elvis, that was a long time ago.

Julie doesn’t want to know about that shit.”

Elvis arched one elegant brow. “Which shit are you referring to? The part where we were fraternity brothers sharing tats or frat brothers sharing bedmates?”

“You son of a bitch!” Damon lunged for Elvis.

“Stop it!” Julie ran to the two men, forcing herself between them. “Just stop it!

Obviously, this office is filled with nothing but secrets.”

The fear and confusion sparking in her eyes cooled Damon’s rage. He let go of

Elvis’ shirt. He hadn’t really intended to hurt the man. He just wanted to shut him up.

There was no way in hell he wanted Elvis to share stories of their college years and ruin the tenuous relationship he was beginning with Julie.

Elvis coughed and ran a shaky hand down his chest. “My, my, I always suspected you had a temper, Damon. But I didn’t really think you’d act on it.” Elvis carried his drink across the room, putting furniture between him and Damon.

“Damon, it doesn’t matter what he has to say. We’ll just leave.” Julie’s voice shook with emotion. Even as heat rose in currents off his body, Julie’s hand on his chest seared

straight through the cotton fabric. Her gentle tone soothed the edges of his anger.

“There’s nothing we need here, Damon.” Her gaze drilled into him as she spoke quietly through clenched teeth. “Nothing.”

Damon was beginning to wonder what she knew about this office. The hard set of her jaw led him to believe she too was keeping something hidden.

“But I thought you wanted to know about Jason.” Elvis set his glass on the desk and began unbuttoning his shirt with slow, meticulous motions. Damon’s stomach churned.

This is not how he wanted Julie to find out about his past. “I’m pretty sure there’s some information that will help you, Julie. Obviously, information Damon didn’t give you.”

“This has nothing to do with Jason,” Damon stammered. “I didn’t even know the man.”

“Oh, Damon, I’m not so sure of that at all.” The soft tufts of hair on Elvis’ chest were now exposed. His fingers continued manipulating the buttons, his eyes, burning hatred into Damon’s skin. “You see, Julie, Damon and I not only shared a frat in college, we shared the same taste in women and men

. And I’ve wondered about Jason and my friend here for some time.”

“I never even met Jason,” Damon exclaimed.

“So you say.” Elvis removed his shirt and turned his back to them. “We’re both marked the same, because we agreed to the same sexual lifestyle. Does this look familiar, Julie?”

Julie gasped and stepped away from Damon. “You? Or you?” Julie’s finger swept the air between the two men. “One of you has some explaining to do. I

knew

I should have been more suspicious of you, Damon. The tape doesn’t lie.”

“What tape?” both men asked, in unison.

“The video tape of Jason with a man.” Julie’s feet moved her farther from Damon.

“A man with the same tattoo you both have.” Her gaze darted from Damon to Elvis and back again.

Elvis hastily covered the ink he’d been so intent on exposing to Julie. “Where’d you get this tape?”

“It was in the box with the stuff you gave me.”

“You didn’t say anything about it to me.” Damon was indignant.

“There was only the high school video,” Elvis said.

“Someone taped over it,” she said on a shaky whisper. “There’s sex … two men …

here in this office.”

“Elvis?” Doubt crawled up Damon’s spine and wound around his throat. “What the hell, man? You told me Jason had nothing to do with the business. Tell me you had nothing to do with his death.”

“Me?” Pain shimmered in Elvis’ eyes. “How could I hurt Jason? I loved him!”

Chapter 7

Julie stared at the video camera aimed out of a hole in Elvis’ desk drawer. It was primed and ready to record. Her suspicions had been confirmed, even as disbelief fogged comprehension. She’d been taped without her knowledge, and the thought boiled her blood, but it was Damon’s betrayal that pinched her heart. He should have told her about the camera before now, but then, she’d kept the recording of Jason from him as well. She swallowed hard, trying to rein in the conflicting emotions. “So the motion sensor triggers the camera to record automatically?”

“Every time.” Elvis walked around the furniture, activating it.

Damon snapped it off. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Julie. It’s just business. A lot of shit goes on in this office.”

How could the gentle man who had held her hours ago be so cavalier? The camera had recorded their most intimate moments. “Business? Recording sexual conquests and transferring them to computers or video tape, that’s business?” Unable to contain her anger, Julie’s voice shook as she waved a DVD in Damon’s face. “You don’t really have a trustworthy leg to stand on, now do you, Mr. Jones

? You laid me out on that couch with the intention…” Heat flashed in Julie’s cheeks, and she tried to push away thoughts of

Elvis watching her and Damon as he transferred the digital image to the DVD. She turned to Elvis. “I assume this is the only copy?”

Elvis nodded his head. The man looked defeated, but she didn’t care. What he did in this office was despicable, and his relationship with Jason—confusing.

“Anyway, at this moment, Damon, I’m finding you just as culpable.”

Damon’s shoulders slumped, but his eyes remained locked on hers. “Julie, I’m sorry doesn’t seem to cut it in this situation. I had every intention of destroying all evidence of our…” His hand waved at the couch, but words failed him. “But really, you need to cut me a little slack; when that was recording, I didn’t know you. I had no idea where last night would lead.”

“And now that you know me, does that change anything?”

Damon leaned in close and whispered. “Julie, now that I know you, I think I’d rather not destroy the evidence of our evening together.” Snatching the DVD from her, he flashed a dimpled smile. “I think I’d like to watch this with you and see if we can improve our performance.”

The man was incorrigible. She wanted to hold onto her anger, but with his breath feathering over her cheek, Damon was making that difficult. Besides, the thought of watching the two of them together sent heat straight down her core. “You’re not off the hook, mister,” she whispered. “When we get someplace private…”

“Enough lovey-lovey,” Elvis said softly as he walked back to the desk. “We need to focus on Jase.”

Damon tucked the DVD in the waistband of his Levis before straightening and crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, now that we’ve claimed what’s ours, and we’re all in agreement that the guy on the tape with Jason is you, Elvis, and no one in this room was jealous

…”

“Hey, how would I know my frat bro didn’t want my lover?”

“Cut me some slack, man. Agreeing to a fraternity tattoo and having sex with a guy aren’t even on the same planet. You know damn well I never worked over a guy at any of those fuck-fests we had in college. Or vice versa.”

Elvis blushed. “There’s always a first time.”

“Okay, enough male posturing. We get it, Damon. Heterosexual all the way. You da man.” Julie patted his inflated chest. She didn’t want to confess that his admission that he’d never been with any man, let alone Jason, relieved her on several levels. Julie wasn’t sure she could be with someone who slept with her one night and his frat brother the next.

Or more shocking—both of them at the same time. She flushed at the thought, ignoring the desire the thought aroused. “So then the question becomes … if neither one of you put it on the tape, who else knew about the recordings?”

“Well, only a few people even know I installed the camera.” Elvis held up his hand, counting on his fingers. “Me, Jason, Damon, my head bartender and my partner.”

“Maura knows about the camera?” Damon looked shocked.

“Yeah, I hardly think it’s fair if I tape our business meetings without her knowledge.”

Julie puffed out indignation. “But sexual conquests don’t nick your moral gauge?”

Elvis’ brow knotted, but he ignored her sarcasm. “You think Maura knowing about the camera is something to be concerned about?”

“Her name just keeps popping up,” Damon said.

“Yeah, well, she is my partner.”

“And Jason’s doctor?” Julie asked.

“That’s how we met initially.” Elvis looked from Julie to Damon. “He’d been seeing her for about ten years. You think that’s significant?”

* * * *

“I wish I hadn’t let you talk me into leaving my cell phone at home tonight,” Julie whispered as she and Damon followed Elvis into the bowels of Starry Knights. “I feel naked without it.”

“Your family can live without you for a few hours.”

“But I should have called my mother before we left the house. She won’t know why

I’m not answering.”

Damon wrapped his arm around her waist. “Will it be so awful if she figures out you’re with me?” His lips grazed the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

Elvis stopped at the last door in the hall of the basement. He turned and smiled.

“Here we are.”

Embarrassment burned in Julie’s cheeks, and she pushed Damon away. “And where is that exactly?” she asked, smoothing her hands down her sides.

Keying in a code to yet another number pad, Elvis spoke, “My secret lair.”

Apprehension squeezed the air from Julie’s lungs.

“He’s kidding, Julie.” Damon smiled at her, then turned to Elvis. “Tell her you’re kidding, Elvis.”

“Julie can be the judge of that.” Elvis pushed the door open. “Welcome to Knights in

Paradise.”

Julie wasn’t sure what she’d see behind the door, but this den of iniquity and fantasy hadn’t even pinged her sonar. The television studio they entered had two live sexual

performances unfolding before her. Everywhere she turned, scantily clad or naked women roamed. Men leaned against the walls, chatting amicably while nonchalantly stroking their erections. What the hell?

“Mind your step, Julie.” Elvis pointed to the floor and stepped over the mass of television cables snaking their way around the room. “This is live, so keep your voices down,” He pointed to the control center against one wall. “Let me take you over here. It will give you a better idea of how this works.”

“Did you know this is where he was bringing us?” Julie asked Damon through clenched teeth.

“Elvis has wanted me to visit this place on countless occasions,” Damon said. “But up until this moment, I didn’t really think I needed to see anything down here.”

“You knew…”

“Shhh…” from the camera crew.

Julie inhaled, reining in the anger flowing from her. “You knew he televised porn from down here, and you didn’t think to tell me before we traipsed on this little field trip?”

“I didn’t want to cloud your judgment. Have an open mind. We might learn something.” Amusement sparked in his eye, but quickly faded with her withering look. “I

mean find something out about Jason or Maura. Obviously Elvis thinks this is important for you to see.”

Julie walked up behind Elvis and stared dumbfounded at television screens filled with naked people.

A ménage with two men pumping themselves into a woman whose screams of ecstasy could be heard from across the room filled one set of monitors. Next to them, another set of monitors showed two men from several different angles, in the act of fellatio.

“This whole thing was Maura’s brainchild,” Elvis confided. “It’s what finally convinced me to bring her in as partner three years ago. The money we take in here is ten times the income from the night club and the private rooms upstairs that we rent to the patrons.”

The moans of male orgasms filtered over from the ménage, and as the three actors slipped onto the pillowed floor, others walked in and began an elaborate striptease.

“Who’s watching this?” Julie couldn’t disguise the disbelief in her voice.

“The feed goes directly out to the Internet.” Elvis pointed to the cameras and the monitors. “These controls here allow us to determine the best angle for the action.” His finger indicated a man with a headset. “We have some special viewers who pay big bucks to control the action from here. They request a particular angle, and this guy…” He patted the tech on the back. “—makes sure they get the action or close-up they want. Our big rollers dictate, to a certain extent, what other people will see.”

“And this is all legal?” Julie asked.

“Freedom of expression, free trade and all that.” Elvis smiled. “Provided everyone is over eighteen. And believe you me, we check and recheck their IDs.”

“So what was Jason’s part in all this?” Damon asked without tearing his eyes from the live action across the room where two women were provocatively peeling clothing from one another. Julie smacked his stomach.

Elvis pointed a finger. “Let’s talk over there.”

Winding their way around cameras, cables and bodies, Elvis stopped them in a shadowed corner of the room. The feeble light played on his stark features, making him look sinister.

“I don’t want my actors to think there’s a problem,” Elvis said. “They were already spooked when the cops showed up here asking about Jason.”

“The cops came down here?” Julie asked.

“No, not here in the basement—Starry Knights.” Elvis’ voice was firm. “The cops don’t know about this place. And I intend to keep it that way.”

“Get back to Jason. What was his role in this?” Damon asked, his gaze wandering everywhere but at the two people next to him.

“Other than doing the well-checks on my actors, he didn’t really have one.” Elvis leaned in close to them. “But he wanted in.”

Damon finally pulled his attention from the action and stared at Elvis. “Oh?”

“Right now we only have the two rooms. Jason suggested I add another two or three.

Even with the money we bring in right now, it wasn’t enough for the digital upgrade on the equipment and the added personnel. I needed more capital. Jason wanted to be that person.” Elvis lifted a shoulder. “He figured the added income would help with the school loans. All he wanted was to be brought in as a full partner.” Elvis’ brow furrowed.

“Maura was vehemently opposed. I don’t think she wanted to split our profits.”

“Opposed enough to get him out of the picture?” Damon asked the question weighing on Julie’s heart.

Elvis looked at them, sadness clouding his eyes. “She was his doctor and my partner.

But truthfully, I don’t know.”

“Do you know what she was treating him for?” Damon asked.

Elvis’s hand massaged the back of his neck. “Do you think it matters?”

“Any information could help Julie and me.”

Elvis folded in on himself. “I’m not proud of it, but Maura treats sexual disorders.”

The statement stunned Julie. “She’s a partner at Starry Knights, and she treats sexual disorders?” She wanted to laugh, but it wasn’t really funny.

“A silent partner, but yes.”

“But Jason didn’t have any disorders,” Julie stated defiantly.

Pain etched deep roads on Elvis’ face. “He was gay.”

“And?” Damon and Julie asked simultaneously.

“And his father didn’t think it was appropriate for the son of a small town doctor looking to take over his father’s practice to be homosexual.” The words tumbled out of

Elvis’ mouth. “He made him start seeing Maura right after Jase’s mother died. I think she must have told the good doctor about his son’s sexual deviancy

.” Sarcasm dripped from the last word. “Jase never told Doc McCarty about us. The only one who knew was

Maura.”

* * * *

Damon walked behind Julie. He should be focused on her friend’s connection to

Elvis, but the intoxicating sway of her hips hugged with leather made his cock throb and spiraled his thoughts in another direction. Watching the couples in the basement had been the initial impetus for his blood-pounding erection, but Julie’s luscious curves beckoned, and now his dick pressed uncomfortably against his jeans. All he could think about at the

moment was burying himself in her silken heat.

Unlike Julie, this evening’s tour hadn’t taken him by surprise. Elvis had been the one to coax Damon to Maine and get him the DJ spot at the radio station. When funds had become tight two months ago, and Damon couldn’t make rent, it had been Elvis who offered to hook him up with an acting gig

. Damon might have prostituted himself with the shock jock performances, but there was no way in hell he’d get his rocks off while others watched on the Internet. He’d go without food before he’d stoop that low. And that’s what it had come to. Now the radio show was paying him bonuses, and the extra appearances it brought netted him a nice living. It just wasn’t what he wanted to do.

Damon had had other plans when he’d arrived in Maine.

Despite what she’d just witnessed, he knew the woman bouncing up the stairs in front of him wasn’t thinking about her sex life. He needed to get his head out of Julie’s pants and wrapped around the conundrum of Jason’s death. Damon was beginning to think Julie’s worries about her friend’s death weren’t as unfounded as they’d first appeared. It seemed Jason had tangled himself in an interesting spider’s web of deceit.

“I’m not sure it’ll help seeing one of the rooms we rent to our more passionate patrons, but knowing all of this business can’t hurt.” Elvis stopped halfway down the hotel-like hall and slid the card key into the door lock.

The room they entered looked like something out of a honeymoon brochure. The heart-shaped bed, covered in plush black velvet, dominated the space. Mirrors on the walls and ceiling reflected the red lights, settling on them like a sultry summer night.

Sheer fabrics in rainbow shades looped from the ceiling and down the walls, adding to the fantasy.

“We even have cable for erotic channels and video cameras available.” Elvis pointed to the flat screen TV mounted on the near wall. “Of course, our patrons have no idea the feed for the pornography comes from one floor down.” He turned abruptly and stared down at Julie. “And before you even ask, Miss Tilling, the only taping that goes on these rooms are the movies the patrons make themselves.”

Tension eased out of Julie’s shoulders, and a smile flitted across her lips.

Elvis walked over to the wall and opened a door that revealed an opulent bathroom.

“Every room comes with a Jacuzzi bathtub. Optional amenities are available for an additional fee.”

Damon didn’t even want to speculate on what other services Elvis provided.

A cell phone chimed. Julie’s autopilot sent her searching, only to come up empty. He forced himself not to dodge the daggers flying from her eyes when they locked on his. It had been selfish when he insisted she leave the phone. But no man would blame him for wanting this sexy woman all to himself.

Elvis answered the device and spoke briefly before snapping his phone shut. “Sorry, I’m needed upstairs. Seems some patrons are asking to speak with the owner.” Elvis pressed his cheek next to Julie’s and kissed the air. “I miss Jase terribly. But maybe we’re both looking for something that isn’t there.” He shook hands with Damon. “Forgive me, friend. I should never have doubted your intentions. Sometimes love and sadness warp the images right in front of us. I should have known you’d never betray me. Not with Jase or anyone.”

Damon pulled Elvis into a fierce hug before the man left them alone. Sometimes kinship had nothing to do with blood relations.

“Well, we should be going.” Julie wiped her palms down the leather molding her thighs.

“I think Elvis intended for us to enjoy the privacy.” Damon held up the keycard Elvis had slipped into his hand.

“Damon, really, it’s late and…”

Damon stood over her, the heat of his lips branding hers. “And you’re going to turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight?” He pressed his body into the supple curves of her. “That happened over an hour ago, Julie. What I see in front of me is no garden flower.” He dipped his fingers into the silken strands of the wig she’d slipped on before leaving the house and grazed her parted lips with his thumb. “I see a beautiful woman who invaded my body and thoughts less than twenty-four hours ago, and now every breath I take is filled with her scent.” Damon sighed against her ear before pulling her lobe through his teeth.

“Everything I touch is sandpaper compared to the velvet heat of her skin against my fingers.” He trailed his hand down her limp arm, linking his fingers in hers. “Everything has lost its taste.” He sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the seam before releasing it. “Except the sweet nectar of her kisses.”

“Well, I suppose investigations can wait. Who am I to deny a man so desperate for my attention?” Her hand cupped his swollen cock, and he nearly swooned as what was left of his blood supply pooled in her fingers.

“My, my, Damon, you are ready.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” He scooped her into his arms and deposited her on the bed, but she rolled away from him as he tried to cover her body with his.

“Not so fast, cowboy.” Julie grabbed the fur handcuffs off the headboard and twirled them in the air. “It’s my turn to take the lead.”

Damon laughed and held his hands up. “I’ll go willingly. Please, just promise you’ll hurt me.”

* * * *

What was it about this place that brought out the shameless hussy in her? Julie wondered. The way the woman downstairs had two men bending to her every demand had been an eye-opener. She’d never known sex could be so freeing.

She now stood over a naked Damon, securing the last knot on his ankle. The man’s legs were spread wide, his gorgeous cock standing tall and proud. His hands were looped together in the black fur cuffs, securing his arms over his head. She’d even blindfolded him. She was about to live out one of her fantasies, and a man she barely knew was willing to play along. Jolts of electricity shot through her body, peaking her nipples against the lace of her bra and making her sex heavy with need.

“You will not reach orgasm until I tell you. Is that understood?” she whispered into his ear. “There will be punishment for not obeying.”

Damon swallowed hard, and his cock jumped. She smiled when all he could do was nod his head in response to her question. Oh, the power.

Julie laved her tongue down his armpit and along his chest, settling on the pearl of his nipple, which she sucked into her mouth, eliciting a groan from Damon. Her hand slid seductively down his hip, circled his belly and plunged into the thick ring of hair. Damon ground out a moan, his hips bucking to force her hand against his cock. She obliged him.

Running her palm up the rigid heat, her thumb grazed over the tip, sliding through slick drops of desire.

“Don’t come, Damon.” Julie moved between his quivering thighs. Releasing her breasts from the lace, she ran the bra over Damon’s face. “I’m nearly naked, Damon.”

Julie wrapped his cock in the weighty flesh of her breasts, pressing them together and surrounding him in her heat.

“Jesus, Julie. I’m not going to last if you keep that up.”

“Oh, you’ll last, Damon. I insist.” But even as she finished the sentence, she sucked his cock into her mouth, and her tongue flicked the sensitive tip.

“It’s not going to matter what you command; that talented mouth of yours is going to finish me up damn quick.”

She smiled as he gasped and bucked against her oral assault. Her tongue lapped up his throbbing cock, then down to circle his balls snugged tight against his body. She lifted the furry sac and flicked wet kisses on the underside of his balls. Her other hand floated up and down his cock. He wouldn’t last. She could feel him quivering, trying to hold on.

“Damon, do you want to come?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Julie…” Damon gasped.

Her tongue laved up and down his rock-hard shaft along with her fingers. “Hmmm?”

she hummed against his skin. Her lips took love bites up and down his cock.

“Fuck me with your mouth.”

“Say please.” She laved up the length of his cock.

“Please…”

She filled her mouth with as much as of him as she could take. Her hand settled around the rest. Her breasts nuzzled against his balls, and she began milking him. Julie swirled her tongue around the mushroom tip and sucked hard, pulling his desire with hers. The sound of his enjoyment heated her blood and pooled slick heat on her thighs.

Her tongue and hands worked him only a minute before he exploded into her mouth.

Damon writhed in ecstasy, grinding out oaths of pleasure. But she held him tight in her mouth swallowing every last drop of his orgasm. She’d never done this for a man. Never wanted to satisfy someone this way. How appropriate that it was the one man who had come to know her so well in such a short span of time.

Several hours later, they lay in each other’s arms, strains of a piano concerto filtering through the sublime haze of contentment.

Damon didn’t want this weekend of sexual bliss to end. He’d been with countless women. All of them had sated his sexual needs and brought him hours of enjoyment. But the beauty coiled around him had reached in and touched his soul. He didn’t believe in love at first sight. Hell, he didn’t believe in love at all. Giving your heart to someone only brought emptiness and pain. He’d promised himself a long time ago to keep things between him and the opposite sex easy and free. Free of strings. Free of personal baggage. Free of commitment.

Damon suspected Julie had never experienced a weekend like this. Hooking up with a total stranger and allowing pleasure to dictate her moves. He loved watching her eyes cloud with the unexpected sensations he offered as he opened her world to new joys of sexual gratification. She was a woman of mystery, alluring and sensual in her naïve

innocence. And she had no idea how intoxicating he found the combination.

He’d just wanted to be with her, not knowing what other baggage she carried. But then he’d met her family, and they had opened their arms to him without knowing who he was. Not caring where he came from. Only that their daughter/sister called him friend.

He’d never had that kind of blind acceptance in his life.

“A dollar.”

Damon laughed. “What?”

Resting her chin on his chest, Julie’s eyes probed his. “A dollar. Inflation.” Her finger traced the lines on his face. “From this stern expression, I’m thinking whatever has taken you away from this room is worth more than a penny.”

That’s what he loved about her. Scratch that. That’s what he liked about being with this person. Julie saw things others didn’t bother to notice.

“You ever wonder if it’s all worth it?” he asked. “I mean, you ever wonder if you’re even in the right state for this time in your life, or was there somewhere along the way you chose wrong, and now you’ve screwed up your life so badly that the map you thought you were following isn’t even in the same time zone?”

Her body rolled away from him, and she sat cross-legged on the bed. After all their hours of sexual play, she was no longer self-conscious of her nudity. He liked that.

Damon rolled on his side, cradling his head in his hand. The other sought the warmth of her skin.

“All the time.” She ran her fingers through his hair. “I wonder if I’m living my life for other people, or do I really want what I have right now.”

“I sure don’t.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I didn’t come to Maine to work as a shock jock. But given the choice of eating or being happy … I choose food every time!”

“What makes you happy?”

He nibbled her knee and traced her belly button. “This.”

“Stop.” Julie kissed his head and pushed him away. “Really, Damon. True. Flat out.

Giddy with joy, happy.”

“Playing the piano. Hands down.” When she didn’t laugh, he continued. “I’ve always wanted to be a concert pianist. But it wasn’t in the cards.” He sat up and gathered her into his arms. “And you?”

“I’ve always wanted to run a corporation. Manage a bunch of people. I love people.

Big huge crowds of them.”

“What are you doing in Delmont? Not too many big accounting firms there.”

“Taking care of my family. Family comes before anything in life.” She said it so matter-of-factly he didn’t know what to do with the information. He had no family.

“Sometimes we need to take care of ourselves first.” He nuzzled his lips into the tender spot behind her ear, and she melted in his arms. Enough serious talk. More fun and games were about to commence.

* * * *

The wind raced past Julie. The trees whipped by almost as fast as the thoughts whirling in her head. Damon pushed the motorcycle through the waning night as if he were fleeing from something. Two nights ago, she had no idea of the world of

pornography. Tonight she’d acted out her wildest fantasies with a man she barely knew, as if she too were part of that world.

What had happened to the predictable Julie? Had she known she’d slough off that woman with the conservative clothes she’d pushed to the back of her closet? Had her psyche been yearning for this transformation? Julie snuggled against Damon. Did she really want to give up that person if it meant giving up the man who had opened her eyes to a new world of sexuality? Perhaps this whole thing was deviant and unhealthy. But the pleasant soreness between her thighs told her otherwise.

Was this how Jason had started? Experimenting in clubs with other men? Finding their bodies satisfied his sexual needs better than a woman? And what of Deirdre? Julie had never been brave enough to question her own sister about her sexual orientation. But perhaps none of that was her business. Not Jason’s personal life and definitely not her sister’s.

They pulled into her drive as the sun pushed into the sky to begin a new day. Julie had a hard time maneuvering off the bike. Her thighs shook with the effort, and the lack of sleep made her dizzy.

“Well.” She removed the helmet and handed it back to Damon. Shyness crept up her chest and settled on her heated cheeks. The man before her had kissed every inch of her tingling skin. He’d taught her things about her body she’d never been brave enough to discover on her own. And as she stood before him in the shadow of her parents’ house, everything they had done cloaked in the secrets of night, seemed shameful and wrong in the brightening light of this day.

“How about some breakfast?”

“I think…”

“Julie. Oh, my God, there you are.” Meghan ran over from her parents’ home.

“We’ve been calling your cell all night. Where have you been?”

Meghan appeared as frazzled as Julie felt. Her sister’s usual manicured look had been substituted with a fresh out-of-bed rumple that Julie hadn’t seen since they’d shared a bedroom. If the eyes were the window to the soul, Meghan’s puffy and bruised expression spoke of a woman on the brink of disaster.

“Meg, honey, what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know where you’ve been. But we needed you.” Anger rode on the words ground out through Meghan’s clenched teeth. “It’s Daddy. He had a heart attack last night, and we couldn’t find you.”

Julie’s knees let go. She grabbed for Meghan, but her sister yanked away. If Damon hadn’t caught her from behind she would have fallen to the ground.

“He was in ICU when I left.” Fresh tears streamed down Meghan’s cheeks. “If anything happened while I was here waiting for you…” Meghan’s finger cut through the air. “…I’m not sure I can ever forgive you.” Meghan turned on her heel and stomped away. “Peter and I are headed back to the hospital now if you want a ride.”

“Julie, I’ll take…”

She rounded on Damon. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you, Damon.” Pain, confusion and anger pushed her from his arms and sent her stumbling toward her parents’

home. “Because of you, I didn’t have my phone.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I told you I

have responsibilities, but you talked me into ignoring them. Well, Damon, there’s no room for you in my reality. Just go home. Playtime’s over!”

Chapter 8

Julie hated Thursdays. Actually, she hated every day since returning to Delmont, but

Thursdays just sucked more. There was the whole payroll to do and the statements to prepare for Meghan’s weddings this weekend and estimates for Deirdre to file.

“Julie, Chelsea’s out front. I’ve got to go into Bangor to get some extra ribbon for the pew markers for the Fowler wedding.” Meghan poked her head into the back office of the flower shop, but didn’t meet Julie’s wounded stare. It had been like this all week.

“And if you’re not too busy, it’s your turn to cook dinner for Mum and Daddy. Of course, if you have plans, or you’re just too busy, I can go again tonight.”

“That’s it.” The pencil in Julie’s hand snapped with her patience. “I’m done playing the contrite sister while you’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

“Me?” Meghan laid a limp hand over her heart. “I’m not the one who went AWOL

just to screw around with a total stranger. It’s obvious where your priorities lie.”

“Oh, like I knew Daddy was going to have a heart attack. Yeah, that’s me, always running from responsibilities.” The hurt tumbled over anger, rolling into an emotional snowball that plunged headlong without regret into Meghan’s feelings.

“Why do I always have to be the one to shoulder everyone’s problems?” Tears burned Julie’s eyes. “Julie, can you water my plants while I’m on vacation? Julie, should

I have fish or steak for dinner? Julie, come home and pull my business out of financial ruin. Julie, talk to Doc McCarty about Daddy’s test results. Julie, feed me, clothe me, love me. Well, Meghan, when the hell do I get to lean on anyone?”

“That’s not fair!”

“You’re right, it’s not fair! It’s not fair that I live everyone else’s life, but can’t have one of my own. And when I finally do … I get punished for it!” Julie pushed away from the mess. “Frankly, Meghan, I’m sick of it. Sick of putting my needs on hold. Sick of trying to live up to everyone else’s expectations. Sick of…” She swiped the papers off her desk. “…sick of this crap.” She shoved past Meghan, but turned and stared down at eyes filled with tears and loathing. “And don’t worry about tonight, little sister. I realize it’s my turn. I’ll be the ever-vigilant daughter and hold back the tide—like always.”

* * * *

Damon stared at his cell phone, willing it to ring.

Julie hadn’t answered. Not her cell. Not her house phone. He’d left messages Sunday and Monday inquiring about her father—wanting to apologize, but not knowing exactly what he’d done. Then he’d just kept calling, praying she’d pick up the phone, but not bothering to leave a message when she didn’t.

“Hey, Demon, you get that promo done?” The station manager looked up from a handful of papers as they passed in the hall of WKOR.

“Heading over to record it now.”

“Don’t let your fans see you that way.”

Damon looked down at the black dress pants and tailored shirt. He ran a hand over his chin, wondering if he should do another quick shave before heading to Bangor. “No,

that wouldn’t do would it?” Wouldn’t his boss be amused if he knew where Damon was headed this afternoon?

“Bad boys don’t clean up that nice,” his boss said over his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.”

Life was too short to spend time spinning your wheels somewhere you didn’t want to be. Somehow, in her very mixed-up world of family obligations, Julie had unknowingly drilled that point home. Damon slinked into the control room.

“Hey, Randy.”

“Demon.” Randy barely looked up until he caught the outfit, then nearly fell out of his chair craning his neck into the studio. “What the fuck, man? Someone die?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Damon went through the motions of recording the promo, his mind somewhere else.

When it was finished, he slapped Randy on the back and ambled out of the radio station.

What had taken him hours to perfect three months ago didn’t even cause him any concern these days. Demon’s personality, like it or not—and he didn’t—was an integral part of him. Cussing into a microphone to promote his next public appearance had become second nature. That was not good. Well, he was on his way to rectify that. Even if no one else knew—it made him happy. He would have been more pleased if he could have shared it with Julie, but somehow her father’s heart attack had been his fault.

That was a depressing thought. Settling his sunglasses in place, he stepped out into the summer sun. The season hadn’t loosened its grip, and he was grateful he’d brought the Saturn with the air conditioning instead of the bike. With the weight of blame he slogged around over keeping Julie from her family adding to the oppressive humidity, Damon didn’t think he could have handled the bike anyway.

“Damon?”

He recognized the shaky voice, but not the shell of a woman speaking. “Julie?” He wanted to believe she was standing there and not just a mirage wavering in the heat rising off the tar. The wind danced with her hair, and she pushed it out of her eyes; emerald pools glistening with unshed sadness. He walked to her, but she looked too fragile to touch.

“Julie, what is it? Is your father all right? He didn’t…” Damon bent so he could read her face. As morbid as it seemed, he’d checked the obituaries every day. No John Tilling had been among the pictures. But the sadness rippling her brow said something different.

“No, he’s fine. Doc McCarty gave him heart medication and put him on a special diet. He just needs to take it easy for awhile. He came home Monday night.”

“Then what…”

“I’m sorry…”

They spoke at the same time.

“You go.” Julie’s mouth quivered in a half smile.

“No, you first.” Damon wanted so badly to gather her in his arms, but until he knew why she’d come to him, he didn’t intend to scare her off with words or actions.

“I’m not sure why I’m here, Damon. I was just driving around and … oh, I don’t know what I was thinking. I just need…”

“A friend?”

“Yeah.”

Julie collapsed in his embrace. He guided her to his car parked in the shade and held

her while emotion poured out with the sobs wracking her body. Her tears dampened his shirt, and all he could think was how she smelled like lilacs and felt like heaven pressed against him. He silently thanked the roads of fate that destiny had delivered her back into his arms.

Twenty minutes later, after cajoling Julie into joining him in Bangor, he was maneuvering the Saturn out of the station parking lot. The woman who had filled his nights with restless thoughts of love and lust now sat in his passenger’s seat, wringing her hands.

“You promise to have me at my parents’ house by four? Four-thirty at the latest?”

Julie asked.

“If it means I have to rent a jet from Bangor, I will deliver you back to Delmont in time to make dinner for your parents.”

“And I have my cell phone.” She held up the device she clutched like a life preserver.

“Thank you for coming with me.” Julie had no idea how much he needed her strength right now.

“When you said you wanted to play piano, you failed to mention you’re a trained pianist.”

“My mother taught me.”

“Another side of Damon Corey I didn’t know.”

“That’s the real me.”

“Who? Tell me about the young Damon.”

He laughed. “Hell on wheels. That’s what my father used to say. I spoke two languages and could sweet-talk the girls in both of them by the age of six.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“My mother used to sit me on her lap when she played. I started making music on the piano before I could write my name.”

Julie traced a finger in the dimple framing his smile. “She’s a concert pianist?”

“Mama? No, she used to play the violin. The piano was my father’s instrument.”

“Used to? She gave it up?”

“My mother’s dead.”

“Damon, I’m so sorry.” Her fingers dug into his bicep.

“Don’t be.” In an instant, his pride turned to bitterness. “She died when I was teenager. I’m over it.” Actually, talking about it still cut deeply, but he couldn’t admit that.

“No one gets over their mother’s death, Damon.”

“Yeah, well, seeing as she abandoned me to my drunken father and followed her lover to Europe, her death wasn’t really too much of a loss.” He swallowed, still finding the pill bitter all these years later. “She died on the autobahn in Germany exactly the way she wanted to live—fast and free.” He wanted it not to matter, but even Julie understood it did.

“Damon, who knows why parents do the things they do.” Her palm cupped his jaw, and her thumb caressed his cheek. The action was not intended to be sensual, but his body reacted immediately. “But I might have an inkling why someone might run from familial responsibilities.” Dropping her hand in her lap, she turned to look out the window. “Sometimes they’re just overwhelming.”

He picked up her hand and kissed it.

Julie lifted a shoulder as if apologizing. “Right or wrong, I can understand it.”

“Love can sometimes overwhelm a person.” Of course, he wasn’t talking about his parents. He was talking about his heart.

“So are you close with your father?” Julie asked.

He laughed derisively. “No. Without my mother to hold him up, he fell into the bottle and drowned himself. His death certificate reads liver failure. But in reality—he died of a broken heart.”

* * * *

It was a wonder the man pouring his soul out through the piano keys didn’t simply collapse—an empty husk of a body. Surely nothing so poignant could come from anywhere other than the heart. As melodious strains of some dead composer filled the

Bangor Auditorium, Julie could feel Damon’s sorrow filling her and resonating through every molecule of air.

How could the man who stood before crazed fans yelling derogatory obscenities be the same hurt little boy who had bravely withstood her barrage of questions about his family? Guilt pinched her heart and made it hard to fill her lungs. As the emotional music pulled her along its river of notes, she thought of her family. As much as they aggravated her, they also anchored her, gave her a sense of belonging. Damon was an orphan; an adult wandering aimlessly through life without any stabilizing beacon to guide him.

Silence rent her thoughts, and she had to keep herself from clapping for his performance. Even from this distance she could see the sweat glistening on his brow, the nervous tension turning down the corners of his mouth.

“Thank you, Mr. Corey.” The conductor walked to the edge of the stage and craned his neck up. “The board will be making a decision by the beginning of next week. We will let you know by then.”

“Thank you.” Damon bowed to the group of people seated in the front row and left the stage.

Julie rushed into the hall and followed the maze of corridors toward the stage entrance where she’d left Damon, nervous and fidgeting. He exploded out of the doors and grabbed her around the waist, twirling them both at a dizzying speed.

“Damn, did you feel that?” He set her down and paced. “I don’t care if they hire me.” He laughed. “Okay, I care. But did you hear that?” Damon took her hand and pulled her along the corridor. “Ba-da … da-da-da-da.” The notes tripped off his tongue. “I

nailed it! And it felt damn good! Liszt himself never played the Hungarian Rhapsody

Number 2 with such passion. I’m sure of it. If they don’t want me, that’s their problem.”

Damon pulled at the black bow tie until it hung limp around his neck. “I haven’t performed in front of an audience since college.” The collar buttons were next. “But damn, I haven’t lost a thing.” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “These, Julie, are my ticket. I just proved they still got it.”

She took his hands in hers. “Pianos aren’t the only instruments they make sing.” Her wink settled right in his groin, the tented dress pants evidence that her comment had sent him over the edge as she intended.

“You are a wicked woman, Miss Julie Tilling. What time is it?”

“Only two-twenty.”

“Time’s a wasting.” He threw her over his shoulder. Julie squirmed and shrieked with amusement, but he didn’t put her down until they reached his car.

* * * *

He wound his way through the city streets and out into the neighboring suburbs of

Bangor. Houses gave way to fields filled with lupine and then to thick stands of forest.

Damon turned onto a dirt road, driving deeper toward privacy.

“I found this place a month ago.” He parked the Saturn under the shade of an oak tree. Anticipation of having Julie writhing beneath him had his cock ready and alert before they’d left the parking lot of the auditorium “Is that all you have for shoes?”

“I came from work. It’s not like I planned on going hiking in heels.”

“Oh, darling, we’re not hiking.”

“But surely you don’t think I’m going to…” She giggled and swirled the air between them with her hand. “…You know … do it … here where anyone can drive by and see us?”

“Umm, did you happen to see where you are? I’ve got you so far in the boonies, there’s no chance someone’s going to see that gorgeous naked body.” He swung open the door. “I never did learn to share.” He jumped out and turned only long enough to stare at her amused expression. “I’ve got running shoes in the trunk. I’ll carry you piggyback.”

“Damon Corey, you are not carrying me through the woods.” She stomped out of the car, her luscious breasts bouncing with each step. The sooner they reached the waterfall, the sooner he could bury himself deep in her hot depths.

“Then I will be doing you right here.” He yanked her tight against his erection.

“Because you’ve whipped me into a frenzy, and I will not be denied.”

“Is that a threat?” The desire shining in her eyes contradicted the fear the question implied.

Damon slipped into his sneakers. “Oh, you better believe it.”

Julie screamed and ran from him, but he caught her around the waist. “Now, you can ride, or I can carry you. I’m good either way.”

She jumped on his back, her legs straddling his hips, her breasts pressed into his shoulders. Damn, he was horny.

“Don’t you dare drop me.”

“I wouldn’t think of it.” He leaned forward, pretending to throw her off.

Her scream echoed off the trees, and her fist landed solidly on his shoulder. “You jerk.”

He laughed and carried her through the trees. Though he’d only been here once, he’d honed his sense of direction in the army and found the isolated waterfall without having to retrace his steps.

“Damon, it’s beautiful.”

“So are you.” He slanted his mouth over hers, swallowing her gasp of pleasure. He’d only been away from her less than four days, but he feasted greedily on the taste as if he hadn’t seen her in years. “Julie. I missed you.”

“Damon, don’t talk. Just be with me.”

He took off his shirt and laid her down on it, covering her body with his. Clothes ripped as desperate hands sought skin. Her teeth grazed his chin and shoulder, and her nails bit into his flesh, and all he could think about as emotions snapped along his nerves

and blood pounded in his ears was how alive this woman made him feel.

He pushed into her, surrounding his throbbing cock with her silken heat. She whispered in his ear, and her hot breath sent ribbons of divine pleasure down his spine.

He rocked against her, his hips pistoning in time with hers. There was nothing in his world, save for this woman spread wide in acceptance of whomever he chose to be.

Her muscles pulled him, taunted him to let go. And when he felt Julie arch and stiffen beneath him, her own climax moments away, he surrendered to the bliss. The world convulsed around him. Fireworks of ecstasy exploded from his groin, filling every cell with pleasure. “I love you, Julie.” The words slipped quietly from his lips even as her orgasm shook the very foundation of his life.

Chapter 9

“And this is all I get for dinner?” John Tilling picked up the piece of spinach from his salad bowl and contemplated the leaf. “Looks like some rabbit’s gonna go hungry tonight.”

“Doctor’s orders.” Alice Tilling planted a kiss on his forehead before scooting back in the kitchen for the rest of the serving dishes. “Besides you always liked fish.”

“Rolled in crumbs and drowned in oil,” John muttered as he leaned over conspiratorially and smiled at Damon. “This pink hunk of flesh doesn’t even look cooked.”

“That’s enough. Leave the poor man alone.” Alice settled at the table next to Julie.

“Mashed potatoes, Damon?”

“You’re killing me, woman,” John said.

“No, quite the opposite. But if you don’t quit your belly aching, I may just serve you double helpings of corn with butter and clog those crotchety old arteries myself!”

Julie giggled. She loved to listen to her parents’ banter. To Damon it probably sounded like arguing, but to her it was the sweet music of a forty-year marriage.

“Doc McCarty stopped by today while you were resting.” Alice tapped the table next to the rainbow of pills. “Wanted to see how you were doing. He saved me a trip to the pharmacy and dropped off your new heart medication himself.”

“Getting old is certainly not glamorous.” Flipping the pills into his mouth, John washed them and his humiliation down with great gulps of water.

“You’re not old, Daddy.” Julie wanted to believe this man she idolized would live forever. “This is just a little speed bump. A chance to sit back and let the rest of us take care of you.”

“You’re sweet, honey.” He patted her hand. “Always willing to take care of everyone else. But you know it needs to stop.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Enough about me and my aging body. Let’s eat this wonderful dinner.” The sarcasm dripped from his tone like the vinaigrette from his fork.

A half hour later, Julie and her mother shuffled dishes from the table to the sink while Damon and her father chatted pleasantly. Leaning back in his chair, Damon had his long legs stretched out under the table. Tingles of awareness knotted her belly as she thought of her own legs wrapped around them, her body quaking in ecstasy beneath the solid weight of Damon. She’d like to have him there again, warm and naked for her exploration. She settled in the chair next to Damon, content to just be near him.

“Julie, I read in the paper today where Bolling, Dearn and McNeal in Bangor were looking for a senior CPA in their firm. Why don’t you apply, honey?” Her father’s voice flashed heat to her face and slapped her back into reality. Fantasizing wasn’t what one did in her parents’ kitchen.

“Julie’s happy at the landscaping business,” Alice said. “She isn’t looking for something else. Are you, sweetie?” Swiping the dishrag over the polished surface of the table, Alice didn’t even look at her daughter. “Peach cobbler, anyone?”

“Well, I…”

“Now there you go again, Alice.” Her father thumped a fist on the table, making both

women jump. “I love you, Alice, but you’ve got to let the girl be a woman. You all expect too much of her.”

“Julie?”

The furrow in her mother’s brow froze Julie’s tongue. She floundered. This was the conversation she wanted to have with her family, but bravery and honesty seemed to have flown out the window. Damon’s hand wrapped around hers, solid and firm, radiating strength like the warmth on her skin.

“Mum, I love my family. But sometimes I just wish…”

The kitchen door flew open, and Meghan and Deirdre came in with the rush of hot summer air. “Hey, Mum, you’re not going to believe this…” They froze two steps from

Damon, the publicity poster of Demon Jones in Deirdre’s hands saying the words

Meghan couldn’t.

All eyes focused on Damon. Questions hung in the air like the oppressive humidity.

Damon had wanted this conversation to be about Julie. But the photo trembling in

Deirdre’s hands couldn’t be ignored. Under the weight of their assessment, only sheer willpower and pride held Damon’s spine straight. “Yes, it’s me. Most people don’t recognize me.”

“Oh, I’ve known who you were all along,” John said. It seemed the man of the house was the only one not wearing blinders where Julie and Damon were concerned.

“You did?” The question tripped out of the women’s mouths in unison.

“Who Damon chooses to be is none of our business. That’s for Julie to worry about.

As I was telling your mother, you girls need to take a step back and let your poor sister live her own life without interference from you.”

“Daddy.” The name dragged over Julie’s lips. Compassion and love filled her eyes.

Damon had never been so proud to be part of the male population as he was at that moment. Sometimes men did get it.

“We’re just worried, Daddy.”

“It is too our business.”

“John, how can you say we meddle?”

The cacophony of syllables tumbled over itself until the room swelled with female irritation. Damon put his fingers to his mouth and blew. The piercing whistle painted stunned expressions on the women’s faces and satisfaction on John’s.

“Demon Jones is what makes me money,” Damon said. “It pays the rent and puts food on my table. It isn’t who I am. But perhaps in time you’ll all come to see that.

Fortunately for me, Julie already has.” He stood and turned to Alice. “Thank you, Mrs.

Tilling, for the wonderful meal. Mr. Tilling…” He stretched his hand out. “—it’s been a pleasure having dinner with you.”

John wrapped a beefy hand around his and winked. “Same here, Damon.”

At least he had someone’s blessing. “Now, if you’ll excuse us—Julie, it’s a beautiful night. How about that motorcycle ride?” He took her hand, not really caring what she thought of the whole thing. Both of them needed to get away.

“Damon, I … we…”

He liked that he made her speechless. “Don’t think, Julie. Just do,” he whispered before ushering her out the back door. He planted a kiss firmly on her mouth before pulling her across the lawns to her driveway. He knew full well three pairs of eyes were watching from the kitchen window. He wrapped Julie into another bone-melting hug,

thoroughly ravaging her dazed mouth with his. Trepidation and excitement sparked in the green pools of her eyes. Eyes he’d like to settle in and just stay. He sipped her bottom lip into his mouth. “As much as I’d like to keep going with this, now is probably not the time.” He pressed his erection to her belly and watched her expression shimmy from shock to desire.

He settled the helmet on her head and swung his leg over the bike seat. “What do you say we go for a ride?”

* * * *

Blackness filled Julie’s field of vision. Damon lay on top of her, the hard planes of his chest heaving from their sexual play.

“I’ve never made love under a piano.” The words slipped out without thought. “I

mean…” Julie squeezed her eyes shut, wondering if Damon would react.

He raised his head slowly and looked at her. “What did you mean?”

“Well, just that there are other places in your condo we could have chosen.” A

nervous giggle followed the statement. It hadn’t even been a week since they’d met. No one except her father fell in love at first sight. She was a romantic, but expecting that from a man just didn’t seem fair.

Damon smiled down at her, the dimples dancing with the spark in his eye. “Oh, because if I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to backpedal out of calling what we just did ‘making love.’”

“Damon, I…”

He nibbled on her lip. “Because, Julie—I like the sound of that.”

She pushed him away. “We barely know each other. And those words intimate something that maybe we’re not ready for.”

“I’m ready for it.”

“You … I…” Damon nibbled her bottom lip, staunching the hemorrhage of stunned stupidity.

“I love making you speechless.” He nipped his way down her jawline. “I love hearing the sharp intake of air when I kiss here.” His teeth grazed her neck, and she gasped. “I love the way your body begs me for more.” Damon’s hand slid up her belly to cup her breast, and her nipple immediately peaked under his touch. “As a matter of fact, Julie…” He lifted his head, and his gaze swept her face. “—I’ve come to realize there isn’t anything I don’t love about you.”

“I love being with you too, Damon.” Nervousness pulsed in her throat.

A smile slid across his lips until it settled in his eyes. “No, Julie. Just—I love you.”

He kissed each eyelid, then her nose, punctuating each word. “Say it.”

“I love you, Damon.”

* * * *

“Does sex make everyone ravenous?” Julie asked.

Damon stared at the woman he loved sitting at her kitchen table, eating pizza straight from the box. Even though he didn’t live here, she made him feel like he was home. A

place he hadn’t been in a very long time.

He shoved his hand in the pocket of his jeans, working to control the urge to gather

her in his arms and never let go.

She loved him.

He took a long pull of his beer and tried to swallow the emotion clogging his throat. Damon laughed as Julie juggled the pizza slice, then sucked cheese and sauce from her fingers. “You know, woman, eating isn’t supposed to be so sensual.” Leaning over the table, he kissed her. “But the way you do it makes me want to be a slice of pizza.”

She laughed and pushed his face out of hers. “Cool your jets, Romeo. We have work to do. No lovemaking until we watch the video tape together and see if there are any clues.”

He sat back, pleased by her choice of words. “Okay, now that Elvis admitted it’s him, what do you think you’re going to get from watching it again?” He drained the beer.

“I have no idea. But why tape something like that in the middle of the high school memories? Someone chose that tape on purpose.” Julie set down the pizza and wiped her hands on a napkin. “I’ve lost my appetite. Let’s just watch it and figure this out.” She stood and led them into the living room. “Only Jason, and maybe his father, would have access to Jason’s Delmont house.”

“And Elvis.”

Julie stopped in mid stride, confusion lining her face.

“He said he found him that night. Obviously he has a key,” Damon said.

“Or Jason let him in.”

“Julie, are you making excuses for Elvis?”

“He said he loved him,” she said wistfully.

“Stranger things than murder have happened because of love.” Damon pulled her toward him and kissed her tenderly. “I just don’t think we can rule him out.”

“But Elvis was so emotional in his office. I just can’t see him doing it.” Julie pushed away and bent over, pulling the box out from under the corner table. “What about the doctor?”

Her ass waggled enticingly, and Damon lost his train of thought. “What?”

She stood and swatted his chest as she walked to the other corner of the room. “Stop staring at my butt and focus.” She rifled in the drawers of the desk. “I said, what about the doctor? The one who prescribed the medication? Could she and Jason have had something more than a doctor/patient relationship?” Standing, she put her hands on her hips and surveyed the room. “That’s odd.”

“What is? The relationship angle?”

“No, not that. The video tape’s missing.”

Chapter 10

Nervousness skittered along her skin like a centipede. Julie worked hard not to wriggle in the leather chair of Dr. Maura Wells’ waiting room. Without the tape, they had nothing to go on, except a bottle of lithium prescribed to Jason by this doctor.

They’d learned that Dr. Maura Wells was a psychiatrist specializing in sexual disorders. But Julie had no idea how someone could believe homosexuality was a disorder. That thought just pissed her off. But Elvis said Jason had been her patient for a decade because he was gay. That would have made him eighteen or nineteen when he started seeing her. Jason had never mentioned to Julie that he was seeing a therapist. It appeared perhaps the man had many secrets. He’d never mentioned he slept with men, either.

Julie had no idea how she and Damon were going to pull this off. No one, least of all a professional, was going to believe Damon was a gay man dating a woman. Testosterone oozed from the man’s pores like nectar from a flower. Even in his tight designer jeans and leather vest exposing the bronzed skin of his muscular chest, he didn’t look any less heterosexual. Or perhaps, the whole Demon persona just got her revved up for more of what she’d had every night for the last week and a half. The magic he worked on her flesh hadn’t been performed by any gay man.

Damon winked at her and blew her a kiss. Heat crawled up her chest and colored her cheeks. The man had only known her three weeks, yet he could read her better than her family.

“Jewel and Demon?” The woman who opened the door was petite, just over five feet tall, but her presence sucked all the air from the waiting room. Her blueberry eyes swept the length of Damon, sizing him up like a cobra waiting to strike. “It’s a pleasure to meet one of Bangor’s infamous celebrities. I’ve followed your meteoric rise to fame.” She held out a limp wrist.

Damon scooped her fingers into his hand and lifted them to his lips as she’d intended.

“I must say, Demon, your call surprised me. You have quite a reputation as a lady’s man.”

“Up until now it’s all been a ruse for ratings, I assure you. But I’m interested in finding out if it can become a reality.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place.” Maura put her arm around Damon, ushering him into the inner sanctum, ignoring Julie all together. “Let’s talk in my office.”

“The fact is I never slept with a woman until Jewel. Some multiple partner stuff with a couple of bi friends, sure, but never a woman by herself,” Damon said.

Maura led him to the couch and sat in the chair next to him, her knees brushing his.

“I’d like you to tell me more about yourself. This first session will just be chatting to find out what you like, what you don’t.” She patted his leg. Another inch higher and the gesture would have been considered foreplay. “Just relax, Demon.”

Dropping her purse at Damon’s feet, Julie thumped down on the couch next to him.

The hand she placed possessively on Damon’s thigh wasn’t part of her act, but when he lifted it with a flourish and set it back in her lap, she had to remind herself—it was part of

his.

“See.

This is what I put up with,” Julie whined. “He says he wants this relationship, but won’t even let me touch him.”

“No PDAs. I’ve told you that.” Damon sat back in a huff, crossing his legs away from the good doctor.

Maura pulled the pencil from behind her ear, tendrils of blond hair falling coquettishly around her face. She rubbed the length of the pencil along her upper lip before flicking her tongue on the lead. Her long lashes winked. “PDAs, Damon?”

Julie couldn’t believe this woman was for real. The man was gay for goodness’ sake, and yet the woman flirted openly in front of his girlfriend. It certainly was an interesting counseling method.

“Public displays of affection.” Damon tapped his fingers at the base of his throat.

“She wants me to prove I want this relationship every minute of every day, no matter who’s around.”

“And do you?”

“Well, that’s a loaded question. I thought that was your job to help me figure that out.”

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Demon; being gay is not a disease. It’s not something you should be ashamed of if it’s the lifestyle you choose. I have many friends who are homosexuals, and they’re extremely happy, well-adjusted people.” Leaning forward, Maura came close to Damon.

Julie watched the woman’s nostrils flare as if she were scenting a mate.

“But sometimes, it just doesn’t seem to fit,” Maura said in a sultry whisper. “Some people fall into the lifestyle without truly desiring that kind of relationship. I believe environmental factors can influence the sexual being. By enlightening clients on cause and effect, I’ve been able to,” she paused, “re-wire, shall we say for lack of a better word, the desires for sexual intimacy.”

Julie couldn’t believe her ears. Deirdre grew up in the same house, same parents, same everything, yet her desire to be with Brianna had nothing to do with that. Anger twisted around her gut, and she swallowed hard, willing herself not to vomit.

“Sexuality is a personal choice,” Maura continued. “If you truly want to leave the gay lifestyle behind and become completely heterosexual, I’m willing to help you.”

“I just want you to fix him. The sex is great. I just think he should…”

“Jewel.” Maura’s smile held no mirth. “We’re not talking about you now, are we?”

“But he…”

“Stop.” If malice were bullets, Julie would have been nothing but a white chalk outline. “Jewel,” Maura continued. “You are here today as an observer only. I don’t have time for your histrionics. This is about Demon and what he desires.” The doctor’s hand found its way to Damon’s bicep. “Demon, in order for this to work, you will need to be open about your sex life, past…” She glared at Julie. “…and present. However unpleasant that may be.”

“Talk about my partners?”

“See, I’ve begged him to talk to me, but…”

Maura jumped to her feet. “Really, Jewel. One more outburst and I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Julie sat back in a huff. This is not how she thought this counseling session would

play out. Is this what Jason had endured? Manipulation and seduction seemed to be the woman’s only means of so-called therapy.

Maura stood and walked behind Damon, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Relax, Demon. You’re safe here.” Working her fingers into the muscles, she bent close to his ear. “How’s that? Feeling relaxed?”

“Hmm, you have strong hands.”

“Close your eyes and focus on my voice.” Her hands moved over his shoulders.

“Tell me why you’re here, Demon.”

“When this…” Damon flicked his head toward Julie. “Relationship seemed to be something she wanted to pursue, I knew I needed help. And Elvis said you were the best.”

For a moment so brief Julie thought she imagined it, Maura froze.

“Elvis? Elvis Castonguay?” Maura asked, her fingers digging into Damon’s shoulders.

“Owner of Starry Knights,” Julie replied enthusiastically.

Maura pushed away. “That’s it. I can’t do this.” Her hands waved them away as she stalked to her desk. “Demon, I don’t think this is going to work.”

Damon jumped up from the couch, shaking his fingers in Julie’s face. “But she doesn’t have to come if that’s the problem.”

“No, she’s not the problem, Demon.

You are.”

“But I really want this.”

“Want what, Demon? To pretend you’re gay or to find out about my connection to

Elvis?”

“You know Elvis?” Damon asked, feigning innocence.

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t know him or me. Demon. You have the same tattoo as

Elvis.” She stared at him, but Damon didn’t flinch. “Frat brothers—lovers—or both?”

Damon crossed his arms over his chest. “Frat brothers only.”

“And I suppose you’re not gay and in need of counseling?” Maura asked.

“No, on both accounts,” Damon said.

“So why did that lovely partner of mine send you here? A little spying to see how lucrative my other business is?” Her words sliced through the air. “Just because he’s overextended doesn’t mean I need to put more money into his loosing company.” She stopped her pacing. “Or is he looking to take you down with his sinking ship?”

“We’re not here for business, Maura.” Damon’s voice was soft. “We’re here about

Jason McCarty.”

“He was one of your patients,” Julie added hopefully.

“And how the hell did you know him?” Maura’s voice dropped low.

Damon stepped between Maura and Julie. “

They were nothing but friends. But I

suspect there was more to your relationship with him than would be appropriate for a doctor.”

Julie’s stomach tensed. Damon certainly knew how to cut through the bullshit.

“We’re just wondering what you might know about Jason’s suicide…”

“You mean murder?” Maura’s hands fisted on her hips.

Julie jumped from the couch. Her female instincts had been right all along. “You know something about his death the police don’t?”

“I told the police everything I know. I know Jase is dead from a gunshot wound.”

Maura began to cry. “I’m not the one who held the gun…” Her face fell into her hands.

“—but I killed him just the same.”

“That’s a confession if ever I heard one.” Elvis burst through the door holding a cell phone in his hand. “Nice going with the phone in your purse, Julie. I heard it all and recorded it. Now we just have to give it to the police, and the murderer will pay!”

“I thought I told you to stay in the car.” Damon stepped toward Elvis. “Julie and I

can handle this.”

“No, Damon.

I’ll handle this.” Elvis lifted a gun. “Just like I’ve had to handle everything else where Jason was concerned.”

Julie fought the terror gripping her stomach like a vise. Now was not a time to fall apart.

Elvis waved the gun at Damon. “Move over there with that pretty girlfriend of yours.”

“What the hell are you doing, Elvis?” Maura’s voice quivered.

“Shut up, Maura. Shut the fuck up!” Elvis glared at her. “I think you’ve ruined enough lives, don’t you? First Jase’s, now mine.”

“Elvis, you never understood my relationship with Jason,” Maura pleaded.

“Damn right, I never understood. You and my Jase? How could you, Maura? You and I were partners. You tried to take the one thing from me that I couldn’t live without.”

“He. Loved. Me.” Maura collapsed into the chair, sobs shaking her shoulders. “But you brainwashed him. He wasn’t gay. Bisexual, maybe, but not gay!”

“Me? Brainwash Jase?” Elvis laughed, a hard rasping sound that clawed down

Julie’s spine. “You and his father fucked him up. He loved me until you both screwed with his head, Maura.”

“He wanted to quit that lifestyle.” Maura spoke into her hands. “I was only helping him.”

“He tried to tell me the same thing when I went to his house to beg him not to leave me.” Tears filled Elvis’ eyes. “I loved him more than you could ever know. I made the tape to show him how good we were together.” He held up the missing cassette. “But he wanted you, Maura. I couldn’t let that happen. I begged him to stay with me.”

“You stole that from my house.” Julie pointed a shaky finger at Elvis.

Elvis laughed again. “No breaking and entering for me, Julie. Happy Mrs. Tilling let me into your house when I told her I was a mutual friend of yours picking up something you had of Jason’s.”

“So why steal it back?”

“I didn’t want you to use it against me. You were supposed to think Jason was fucking Damon, Julie. But the man wrapped you around his pinky like every other woman. At least you were fucking smart enough to catch the connection to Maura when I

planted the prescription bottle.” Pain and anger sparked in his eyes. “It just wouldn’t do for the police to come sniffing around me. I’ve lost enough already.” Tears overflowed, and he swiped at them. “Now, Maura will pay for Jase’s life.” He lifted the gun and waved it. “And you two will pay for being so fucking stupid.”

“Elvis, did you kill Jason?” Julie couldn’t believe it had come to this.

“I didn’t kill him!” Elvis yelled, then shrank into himself. “Not on purpose, at least.”

Damon’s foot inched toward the door. Elvis, lost in memories, didn’t notice.

“I did bring the gun to his house. I don’t think I ever intended for anyone to get hurt.

I just wanted to scare him a little. We argued over the tape, over Maura.” He looked up at

Maura with a face contorted into a grotesque mask of rage.

“I put the gun to my head, threatened to end it all—for him. I wanted him to realize how much he loved me and to save me. But you know what? He just laughed.” Elvis’

features morphed, and bitterness glazed his eyes and clenched his teeth. “He laughed at me. He didn’t care if I made the tape public. He didn’t care if I killed myself. He’d just buy my share of Starry Knights like he’d wanted all along. He and Maura would run my

business together.”

Damon continued a slow progression toward Elvis. Julie knew what he intended. She just needed to keep Elvis talking. “Why give me all that stuff in the box?”

“Jase told me along time ago about his friends, the Tilling sisters. How sweet and innocent you all were. I grabbed the stuff from his place that night and intended to deliver the evidence to your house, but you came to me instead. Even better. It didn’t make me look so desperate to frame her

.” Elvis swiped a hand at his tears. “I wanted the bitch to pay for taking him from me. The bullet may have come from my gun, but she forced my hand when she made him try to be something he wasn’t. We were good together, Jase and me. The real killer is Maura. She as much as admitted it.” He shook the phone still clenched in his hand.

His words shocked Maura out of her malaise. “Me? Kill him?” She stood and stepped toward Elvis. “He was my first true success story. He didn’t want the gay lifestyle. My counseling had worked! He fell in love with me

!”

“Maura don’t go any closer,” Julie pleaded. “Elvis isn’t worth your life, too.”

Elvis cackled, a dry hacking sound that shook the tension hanging in the air. “Listen to her. It’s the only smart thing she’s pieced together.” He swung the gun from Damon to

Julie. “I planted things in that box to point to Maura. You were supposed to take it to the police, not come here on your own. Now you’ll pay. You all will pay for making me live without Jase. He didn’t love anyone but me.”

Maura took another step closer to the deadly weapon, anger and betrayal mapping deep roads on her face. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, Elvis. He didn’t want you

. He wanted your business. The one you wouldn’t let him help run. He wasn’t cut out to be a doctor, but he couldn’t leave that job until he had something to support himself.

Jason

came up with the idea of the Internet sites.

Jason talked to me about remodeling the second floor into private rooms to make more money. I just implemented his ideas. Starry

Knights is successful because of what I did with Jason.” Fury propelled her toward Elvis.

“Stop!” Elvis stepped back out of her reach. “Shut up, you bitch! Shut up! He.

Loved. Me.” Elvis shook the tape at them. “This is the proof.”

“He used you.” Maura yelled and lunged again.

Faster than Julie could assimilate, a gun blast rattled the windows. Maura fell back against her desk, blood materializing between the fingers she clutched at her chest, the shocked horror of reality registering in her expression.

Damon grabbed for Elvis, pushing the gun high in the air. Another shot shattered the glass shelves on the wall. Splinters of glass rained down on the men tangled in a battle for their lives.

Julie grabbed the vase off the coffee table, running at the men. Damon’s arm swung hard, bringing his fist into Elvis’ jaw, spinning the man so Elvis’ back was to Julie. She lifted the urn above her head, intent on breaking it on the struggling killer. A gunshot

rang again and echoed in Julie’s ears. The air in her lungs superheated, and she couldn’t seem to draw a breath. The vase, now the weight of sledgehammer, slipped from her fingers.

Time warbled and warped her perceptions. She watched Elvis’ body crumble to the floor in front of her. Too tired from the emotional roller coaster, she slumped to the floor beside him. Darkness crept along the edges of her vision.

Then Damon was there. The lines on his face were deep with love—and concern.

She wanted to smooth it from his features, but her arm wouldn’t move. His mouth formed words, but there was only an eerie silence echoing in her head. She tried to ask if Maura was all right, if Elvis still had the gun, but her mind couldn’t wrap around any of it. She was tired. So very tired.

Julie closed her eyes and slipped into the black hole of emptiness, letting it lull the pain from her body.

Chapter 11

Six Weeks Later

Damon walked slowly through the cemetery. He hadn’t even been back to visit his parents’ graves after their funerals, but this felt different. It was right for him to be here walking among the stones. He’d learned so much from the Tillings about love and family ties.

He’d be forever grateful to Julie for that lesson.

The gentle breeze lifted his hair, and he raked his fingers through the short crop of black, liking the clean image of this new Damon Corey. He’d quit his job at the radio station a month ago and would begin playing for the Bangor Symphony next week.

His dream job.

In light of all he’d been through, it felt right shucking the false persona of

Demon and letting people come to know the real Damon.

When he met Julie, she also had been struggling to find her own identity. They’d both been so blind when it came to their own needs, but love had opened their eyes. Now he stood in the summer sun, no longer afraid of being himself, no longer worried about letting people into his heart.

Something else he learned from Julie.

The rain of the past few days had cleared the heavy humidity from the air, and there was only the clean aroma of pines and wildflowers scenting the breeze—and her intoxicating perfume. Damon stared at the curve of Julie’s neck as she bent over Jason’s grave, tears streaming down her cheeks. He’d nearly lost her, and the thought still knotted his stomach.

She’d wanted to be alone, and he’d given her time to say a proper good-bye to her friend. This was her first visit to Jason’s grave since getting out of the hospital. Her body might be healed, but he wasn’t sure she’d ever get over her friend’s senseless death.

Sadness curved her shoulders into her chest, her obvious pain drawing him toward her. She would never have to carry the burden of emotion alone—good or bad.

“How you doing?” His hand settled in the curve of her back, his mouth nuzzling the soft skin below her ear.

“Elvis may be burning in hell, but it won’t bring back Jason or Maura, will it, Damon?” Julie turned into him, her arms winding around his neck, seeking support. He would be here for her until his last breath and never tire of holding her.

“Julie, none of this would have happened without your persistence.” He lifted her chin and stared into the face of the woman who had agreed to become his wife. “Starry

Knights could still be open and Elvis running free. But you made sure Jason’s death didn’t go unpunished. You did something the police couldn’t.”

“It just doesn’t seem like enough.”

Damon’s hand slid gently down Julie’s side, tenderly caressing the wounds made when the bullet that had killed Elvis ripped through her body. Julie had been in the hospital fighting for her life for nearly two weeks, and he’d never left her side. Damon had asked her to marry him the moment she came off the respirator. “Nearly losing your life wasn’t enough of a sacrifice?”

“Maura ended up loosing everything for the man she loved.” Julie choked on the words.

Damon pulled her tight to his chest, snuggling her head under his chin. He understood what it was like to love someone with all your heart and soul. He would gladly have given up everything to trade places with Julie over the last month. “I’m sure whatever happens after this life, Maura and Jason are together now.”

Julie looked up at him, tears still glistening on her lashes. “But what about Doc

McCarty? My heart aches for him. He has no one left in this world.”

“Julie, don’t go there.” Damon slanted his mouth over hers, the heat of her lips scorching his blood. He didn’t want to think about death; he wanted to rejoice in their new life. He rubbed his growing erection against her belly. “Now, future Mrs. Corey, why don’t we go home and have a little private party of our own and celebrate that new

CPA job of yours?”

“Why, Mr. Corey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to take advantage of me.” Desire shimmered in her eyes.

“And I always thought love was blind.”

The End

About the Author:

Nina Pierce began writing as a lark when her health forced her retirement from a twenty-year teaching career. As someone who always loved hot stories and happy endings, she sat down to write her first romance in 2005. Her part-time love of words blossomed into a full-time writing career, and she hasn't looked back. Now her characters wake her in the night, clamoring to have their stories told.

A native of Maine, Nina resides in what she affectionately calls “the great white

North” with her true love of twenty-four years, their three grown children and a menagerie of pets.

You can keep up with her hottest releases at www.NinaPierce.com or contact her directly at Nina@NinaPierce.com

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