Reckless in Moonlight Read online

  The settlement of their house had held up finalization of the divorce. To Roger, their home had never been anything more than a house, but to Dana, it was a sanctuary, a place to rejuvenate and refresh from the craziness of the world. She didn’t know why Roger had been so insistent on selling it, only that he had been.

  “Why now?” She arched her brows.

  He sighed and ran a hand over the remaining wisps of hair that clung vainly to his scalp. “Because…because after everything that has happened, it’s…it’s…”

  Dana could see the wheels cranking in his brain as he searched for a word that wouldn’t unleash her temper.

  “Fair,” he finished.

  Her amusement at the way he’d tiptoed through the minefield diffused the fury his comment might have ignited. Nothing about the breakup had been fair, but she could read the sincerity on his face. Roger had been a decent person until his dick had gotten the better of him.

  “All right.” She shrugged as if his concession were insignificant. She’d be damned if she thanked him for letting her keep her own house, for leaving her with a few crumbs while he skipped away with the entire loaf of bread.

  “I’ll, uh, have my attorney draw up the paperwork.”

  “Fair enough.” Her lips twitched with amusement over the use of the word.

  Roger nodded awkwardly, then turned and walked away, his wet shoes emitting a satisfying squeak on the concrete. After he exited the gate, she tilted her head back and gave the orb in the sky a thumbs-up. “I don’t know how you did it, but thanks,” she said.

  Roger’s abrupt about-face provided another piece of evidence to the veracity of the old tale that a full moon enticed people to act impulsively, recklessly. Not that she needed proof. The full moon had coincided with the worst freakish summer heat wave anyone in Creek’s Crossing could remember.

  As PR manager of the Creek’s Crossing Power Company, she had spent her day trying to convince the whack jobs transferred to her office that aliens had not caused the heat wave nor had the government masterminded the rolling brownouts that resulted. In between, she’d fielded a barrage of media inquiries as to how the utility was handling the crisis. By the time she’d arrived home late in the evening, her nerves had been frayed like a pair of denim cutoffs. Her only thought was to relax with a skinny-dip in her swimming pool.

  She glowered at the night sky. How was it possible it was over one hundred degrees at ten o’clock? Meteorologists had promised temperatures would subside within a week, but they were the same people who’d failed to predict it, so she put little faith in their forecasts.

  After Roger’s infidelity, she had little trust in anybody these days, even herself. And the tug of the moon didn’t help.

  But what an exceptional moon it was. Despite its deleterious effects on reason and sanity, it presented a magnificent lunar display. Its glow transformed night to dusk and illuminated her backyard, making lanterns unnecessary. Under its light, her motionless pool glistened like liquid silver.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she spied another burst of light emanating from the children’s fort, and then her ears picked up a shuffling noise. Dana’s frown transformed to heart-stopping shock when a figure appeared in the doorway of the tree house.

  Her jaw dropped.

  “I’m sorry.” The star of her secret fantasies stepped onto the first rung of the ladder.

  Knowledge of what Lon must have witnessed flooded Dana in an explosion of heat, but she hoped against hope that somehow he’d sneaked into the tree house without her noticing during the last few minutes. “How long have you been there?” she demanded, silently cursing the unusually large and bright moon that had probably lit up her pool like a stage.

  “I can explain,” he began, and then she spotted the camera in his hand.

  The flashes of light! “You took pictures of me?” Every possible worst-case scenario reeled through her mind. Would she have a starring role on the Internet? Yet beneath the wave of horror lurked an undertow of salacious excitement.

  “No!” He motioned with both hands and nearly fell off the ladder. “No, I only came to retrieve the camera. My brothers left it in the fort. My family went camping, and my dad asked if I would pick it up for him.” His words spilled out in a rush.

  “You can check it if you’d like.” Lon held it out to her, and a beam of moonlight glinted off the oversize face of his heavy wristwatch.

  Her hammering heart slowed, and Dana pressed a calming hand to her chest and shook her head. “That’s okay,” she said on an exhaled breath. She believed him. Didn’t know why she did, but she did. “Isn’t it rather late to run errands?”

  “I had a long shift at the hospital. I’m a physician—a resident. I thought I could get it this evening and save time tomorrow. I had just climbed up here when you came out.”

  “You should have announced yourself right away.”

  “You’re right. But everything happened so quickly.”

  She’d gotten naked so fast was what he meant. She’d stripped off her black maillot and cannonballed into the pool within seconds of entering her backyard.

  Dismay still burned her face that Lon had watched her, but a curl of desire flared lower in her body. He’d liked what he’d seen enough to stick around.

  “I’ll go. Again, I apologize for embarrassing you.” He sounded sincere, but in the glimmer of his moonlit gaze, she spied appreciation. He could have his choice of women—young, pretty girls—yet he found her attractive. A pulse throbbed in her neck and between her legs.

  Lon began to descend the ladder, then stopped midway and twisted around. “It’s none of my business, but I think your husband is giving up a lot more than a house.” There was no mistaking the admiration in his eyes this time.

  “Thank you.” Her voice came out husky as all her senses shifted from yellow to red alert. A gorgeous, hot man she’d admired from afar was looking at her as if she was the hot and gorgeous one. She felt like she was poised atop the high dive of life about to plunge headfirst. As she peered up at Lon, the moon’s glowing face egged her to take the leap. Do it. Do it.

  “Don’t rush off on my account. Why don’t you join me for a dip?” Dana took a deep breath and released her inner siren and her towel. Head high, she sauntered to the pool and sashayed three steps into waist-deep water. With a slow pivot, she turned to face him.

  Lon was gone.

  Humiliation blazed, leaving no cell uncharred.

  Dana hugged herself, crisscrossing her arms over her naked breasts in a futile attempt at comfort. Idiot! What did you expect? Of course he’s not interested in you. She’d mistaken simple politeness for attraction. God, he probably would regale his buddies with the story of the pathetic, nude, middle-aged divorcée who had come on to him. Thank goodness Lon didn’t actually live next door, so their paths wouldn’t meet very often. She hoped never.

  She should feel grateful his rejection saved her from embarrassing herself further. Good God, what would she have done if he’d accepted her rash offer? She had no business plunging off the high dive—nonswimmers belonged in the shallow end. No wonder her bold gesture had turned into a humiliating belly flop. What had she been thinking? Perhaps Roger was right. She was insane.

  The gate creaked, and Lon appeared.

  Every molecule of her body began to vibrate. Unable to move a single muscle, she gaped as Lon ambled to the pool, pulled off his T-shirt in a single fluid motion, and tossed it onto the cement. “I was hoping you’d ask,” he said, her fantasy springing to life in word and deed.

  Chapter Two

  Lon stripped to the buff with a speed that afforded Dana little chance to utter a protest. Not that she could have voiced one even if she’d had more time. Her lungs had shut down, denying her throat the necessary oxygen to enable her to speak. She was foundering in the deep end of a predicament she’d dug with her own impulsiveness.

  Sure, she’d issued the invitation like an experienced femme fatale and then suffered t
he agony of humiliation when she thought Lon had rejected her, but she truly did not expect him to join her! She had to tell him pronto she’d made a mistake, order him to get dressed. Christ, put on her own clothes.

  Except her mouth wouldn’t obey the commands of her brain. She dropped her arms to her sides and gloried in every inch of his flesh as he revealed it. Smooth skin stretched over quarterback shoulders, a muscled chest, sculpted abs, and strong thighs. An erect cock, more impressive than the one she’d conjured up in her fantasies, arose from a thatch of blond hair.

  Dana’s mouth went dry as he padded to the pool and stepped in. In her body’s center, yearning mingled with languor, a paradoxical contrast to the rigor that paralyzed her limbs. A wetness that she couldn’t blame on immersion in a pool of water dampened her cunt.

  Say something! her common sense yelled, but Dana was afraid to speak, feared she’d either start blithering like the idiot she was, or she’d start to laugh and be unable to stop.

  Lon waded toward her through the three-foot-deep shallows, the water lapping at his hips barely covering his erection, a disarming grin on his face. From the level of heat that inflamed her body, Dana half expected the pool’s water to boil.

  He stopped in front of her, close enough to touch. She itched to do so; she wanted to caress his smoothly chiseled chest, trace the ripple of his abs, test if her fingers would meet if she encircled his cock. She needed to cling to his bulging biceps for support, because she desperately needed some.

  His scanned her face but no lower, earning him respect for not blatantly checking her out despite her brazen nudity. His blue eyes mirrored the same amusement carried in his confident smile, but as she peered into the depths of his gaze, she detected a flicker of uncertainty. Her willpower wobbled like her legs.

  Transfixed, she watched as he dunked himself under the water.

  “Whew, that feels good,” Lon said when he resurfaced. The water wasn’t cold enough to chill the fever that heated his blood and thickened his cock. He knew the divorcée’s invitation wasn’t a serious one and had braced himself to be rejected when he’d hauled ass through the gate. That he’d gotten this far showed promise, but he had to proceed carefully now.

  She was still gawking at him like he was a two-headed sea monster that had emerged from the deep.

  Casually, he said, “The heat wave has been brutal.” So was standing next to her. She was fucking hot—his wet dream transformed into a water nymph. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d jacked off to her image—but how uninspired and unimaginative he’d been. He hadn’t foreseen how her skin would glow under the moonlight, that her dark hair would lay like wet silk against her head, how plump her pink mouth was, how much more lush her tits were. Firm and high on her chest, the mounds appeared to be the right size to fit his palms. Of course, he couldn’t be certain unless he tested his hunch. Her nipples jutted out rosy and erect, from the cold water or arousal, he wasn’t sure. But either way, Lon wanted to draw those pebbles into his mouth, see if she was as tasty as she looked.

  “Yes,” Dana said.

  The single word spoken in her husky tone sent shockwaves rippling through his body until Lon realized she was responding to his comment about the weather.

  “She speaks!” he teased.

  “She does. Now if she could think of something to say.”

  Lon tilted his head. “You’re surprised I accepted your invitation.” She looked as if a submarine had torpedoed her. He wanted to see that same expression of wide-eyed shock as he drove his dick into her wet, convulsing pussy.

  Dana nodded. “Yeah.” She paused, and Lon held his breath, prepared to be banned from her premises like an unruly child at a public swimming pool. “But I’m glad you did,” she said.

  Relief, followed by a cock-throbbing thrill, whipped through him.

  He’d just climbed into his brothers’ fort when Dana had emerged from her house. He had started to yell hello when she’d shucked her swimsuit and plunged into the pool. Instant hard-on. Though he’d felt like the worst sort of Peeping Tom, when she’d begun masturbating, he’d unzipped his pants and did likewise. As she neared orgasm, she’d moaned, and in his lust-fueled mind, he’d imagined he’d heard his name on her lips. The notion propelled him to climax, and he’d shot his spunk all over himself.

  Then the ex arrived.

  The old man wasn’t here now. But he was, and this was the chance Lon had been hoping for since he’d first spotted Dana across his parents’ driveway months ago. But he needed to give her a little space, make her comfortable. Their age difference didn’t matter shit to him, but he had a feeling it might be an issue for Dana—at least initially.

  “So, should we swim?” he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he pushed off. He kept his head down and his windmilling arms close to his body. With small, fast kicks, he sliced sharply through the water. He enjoyed swimming and had lettered on his high school team, although the demands of medical school and his residency had curtailed most outside activities, including swimming.

  When he swam, he wore a Speedo to cut the drag, but the difference in sensation the absence of that small scrap of nylon made was akin to the difference between fucking with and without a rubber. Even his chest, back, and legs—parts normally exposed—registered the touch of the water more acutely. But as sensual as the cool wetness felt on his cock, he longed for something hot and wet around his shaft.

  Dana’s cunt. He reached the back wall and somersaulted to complete the return to her side.

  She was anchored in the same spot, but her dazed look had diminished, and she appraised him openly. Her admiration heated every micron of his body.

  “You must swim often,” she said.

  “Not so as much as I used to. You’re not going to swim?”

  Dana shook her head. “After your Olympic performance? No way. I’m not very good.”

  “I could teach you.” Quickly he marshaled a plan. “But you have to show me first what you know.” Teaching her to swim was perfect—she’d be moving, doing something, and would be less likely to revoke her impulsive invitation. And he’d have an excuse to lay his hands on her body.

  He waded closer. Another step and her hard nipples would brush his chest. “Come on. Swim for me. Please.” He lowered his voice to a coaxing half octave. “Show me what you can do, and I’ll tell you a secret.”

  “What kind of secret?” She tilted her head, and a curious smile appeared on her face. His cock tightened, and it was all he could do to resist grabbing her, spreading her legs, and driving into her right there.

  He tamped down his desire and flashed a grin. “You’ll have to swim to find out.”

  “You’ll laugh.” She shook her head, but he could tell by how she nibbled on her lower lip that she was weakening.

  “I won’t. I promise.” He made a dramatic sign of crossing his heart.

  Her naked breasts rose and fell as she expelled a sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said and dove into the water.

  Only physics kept her afloat. She didn’t move through the water so much as she wrestled with it, taking it on like she was pummeling an opponent—only she was on the losing end of the fight. No synchronicity existed between the movement of her arms and legs. Limbs that should have been straight were bent; those that should have been bent were straight. Her head was too high. She came up for air at irregular intervals. She could no more swim a straight line than a drunk could walk one.

  And she stole the oxygen from his lungs. Her thrashing only heightened his desire to have her writhe beneath him.

  Dana managed to propel herself back and find her footing. “Well? What do you think? Am I ready to compete in the Olympics?” Her eyes danced, and her breasts bounced on her heaving chest.

  Lon smothered his own amusement because he’d promised, so he focused instead on a water droplet that slipped off her collarbone to run down her breast and hover on the bead of one red nipple. He itched to retrace the droplet�
�s path with his tongue.

  “You swim like a duck,” he lied with a straight face.

  She laughed at herself, a carefree, sexy sound that delivered a sexual kick to his groin.

  He spent the next fifteen minutes giving her pointers, demonstrating how to keep her legs straight but not rigid, how to move her arms, how and when to breathe. At the end of it, they swam several laps together before returning to the shallows. She wasn’t an athlete, but her motions at least resembled swimming.

  “You’re a miracle worker,” she said, breathing a little heavy. She ran a hand over her wet hair and squeezed out the water. “So what’s the secret?”

  High in the sky, the face of the full moon glinted oddly. If he were a fanciful sort, he might have said the moon’s face looked triumphant, but Lon gave it all the consideration it was due—which was none—because he had more important things to focus on.

  Like Dana.

  “Secret?” Lon’s gaze met Dana’s.

  “You promised you’d tell me if I swam for you.”

  He waded closer until her perfect nipples poked his chest. He felt her shiver, and he tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then bent his head so that his lips hovered next to her lobe. “My secret is…I want to fuck you,” he whispered.

  Fortunately, Dana had a swim buddy, because her legs were going to give out, and she might drown. Of course, her swim buddy had caused the weakening of her limbs, the tremors, and the difficulty breathing. What did one do when one’s fantasy assumed solid form right before one’s eyes? Lon’s words, his warm breath, his husky rumble, revved her racing libido. A devil of desire perched on one shoulder, an angel of reason on the other.

  Fuck him. Start at his lips, and lick every water droplet until you get to his cock. Suck him dry, and then start all over again. Ride him until you walk like a bowlegged cowboy.

  Say thanks, but no thanks, and send the neighbors’ son packing. You never should have invited him over.