by Debra Webb
No. Ian released a heavy breath. It was none of those things. Nicole was suffering from the same ailment that plagued him, sexual frustration.
He wanted Nicole. He wanted her so badly that it was a bone-deep ache. The thought of touching her had been there all day, prowling in the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind, like an enemy preparing to close in. If something didn’t happen soon, one or both of them would lose control. Today had been the most difficult. Absolute silence surrounded them. It was as if even the birds knew it was Sunday and they should rest from their twittering and chirping. The sky was a magnificent canvas of blue with the occasional fluffy white cloud here and there like the smudges of a careless painter’s brush. A slight breeze whispered through the trees from time to time, momentarily disrupting the utter silence.
Inside, the mouth-watering aroma of garlic and tomato sauce filled the air. He should be hungry, but like Nicole, he wasn’t. Ian’s gaze flitted across the room. The big brass bed stood waiting, beckoning to him like a buoy in deep waters. Ian knew that if he didn’t do something soon he would drown of suffocating need. A desire that never completely went away smoldered just beneath the surface of his own flimsy hold on control.
He needed a walk. A very long walk. And before he came back inside he would have this fire under control once more. Ian stepped to the bathroom door and knocked once.
“Nicole, I’m going outside to check the generator,” he said flatly, then turned to make good on his announcement, but her tentative voice stopped him.
“Ian?”
The sound of his name on her lips drew him back to the door, closer than he had been before, his face pressed against the smooth wooden surface. “Yes,” he answered stiffly.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” a pause accompanied by the splash of water, “but I failed to get a towel before I got into the tub. Now I can’t get one without dripping all over the place. Would you,” another agonizing pause, “come hand me a towel?”
The image of Nicole in that tub, surrounded by frothy water, bloomed before Ian’s eyes. He could smell the clean, sweet fragrance of the scented water. Want speared through him, immediate and fierce. Ian braced his hands against the doorframe and summoned his crumbling resolve. The taste of her lips, the smell of her skin, how it felt to hold her in his arms kept playing through his mind. If he hadn’t kissed her yesterday, maybe the need wouldn’t be quite so savage. But he had kissed her. And he wanted to kiss her again.
“Ian?”
Soft, sultry, her voice tugged at him, destroyed the last of his defenses. “Yes,” he rasped. His hand moved to the knob, gripped hard, ready to turn it and remove the one tangible barrier between them.
“The water’s getting a little cold.”
Ian turned the knob and pushed the door open. The warm, moist air enveloped him with that irresistible fragrance he couldn’t quite name as he stepped into the small room. His gaze riveted on Nicole reclining against the end of the tub in water just deep enough to conceal her breasts. Mounds of bubbles floated around her. She smiled lazily up at Ian, those blue eyes liquid with feminine heat. All that silky hair was haphazardly pinned on top of her head, several strands had fallen free and now clung to her damp neck.
Forcing his gaze away from temptation, Ian took a towel from the linen closet. He swallowed with major difficulty, his body growing harder with each passing second, and turned back to her. Something in his peripheral vision drew him up short, pulling his attention to the floor. Nicole’s discarded clothing lay at the foot of the tub, a ruby-red bra with matching panties topped the pile like a ripe cherry. Instantly, the vision of Nicole wearing those wicked undergarments played before his eyes. Full, rock-hard arousal tightened his loins.
Nicole suddenly sat up and wrapped her arms around her bent knees, but not before Ian got a gut-wrenching view of her breasts, water and bubbles sliding over their fullness. His hardened length twitched with urgency. Nicole nodded toward the washcloth hanging on the side of the tub.
“Would you mind washing my back?” She laid her cheek against her knees and closed her eyes.
Ian’s hungry gaze roved every delicious rise and hollow. The firm curves of her legs; the swell of her breast where it was pressed against her thigh; the exquisite detail of her spine; the lovely length of her neck.
“Please,” she urged when Ian didn’t move fast enough.
Unable to dredge up a verbal response, he knelt next to the tub and picked up the damp washcloth with his left hand. He dipped it into the warm water and then slowly caressed the smooth skin of her back. His right hand fisted into the soft terry cloth of the towel.
“Hmmmmm,” she moaned, “that feels nice.”
Fire flashed through Ian’s veins, heating him from the inside out. He couldn’t take much more of this. Again and again he traced that soft, creamy terrain until he felt ready to explode. Nicole straightened and looked directly into his eyes. Ian saw the same need in those azure pools as was roaring through him. A muscle jerked in his tense jaw when his gaze traveled down to her nearly exposed breasts, then back. He wanted to kiss her…to touch her, but it would never stop there. Ian was well past holding back.
“Thank you,” she murmured, her gaze examining his lips before moving back to his eyes.
“You’re welcome,” he said tightly.
“The towel?”
Ian lifted the towel he still clutched in his right hand toward her. Before he realized what she intended, Nicole took the towel from him and stood. Ian blinked, twice. He pushed to his feet, trying his level best to ignore her naked body as she smoothed the towel over her skin.
“Anything else?” he asked, his control a single frayed thread away from snapping.
“Actually, there is one thing.” Nicole wrapped the towel around her, tucking the end between her breasts. She stepped out onto the polished wood floor directly in front of Ian.
Ian waited, his body pulsing with need.
She smiled sweetly. “Would you pour me a glass of wine? I’m suddenly very thirsty.”
Ian looked away and licked his parched lips. “Sure.”
Nicole closed her eyes until Ian had disappeared from her line of vision. She shivered with the need vibrating inside her. How would she ever be able to see this through? She gave herself a mental shake. She had to do it. One way or another, she had to get out from under Ian’s watchful gaze. The bastard she wanted would never show with Ian so close. And if he did, Ian’s life would be in serious jeopardy. Firming her resolve, Nicole dropped the towel to the floor and quickly pulled on her red undies. The realization of just how much she affected Ian made her giddy with excitement. But there was no time to dwell on that right now. She had to move swiftly. If Ian suspected her motives for one instant, the game would be over before it began. Nicole shouldered into one of Ian’s flannel, button-up shirts. She left the top three buttons undone and squared her shoulders, then smiled. This would do just fine.
After checking her reflection in the mirror, Nicole padded into the great room. Ian filled the second of two glasses and placed the wine bottle on the table. He turned to greet her, glass of wine in hand. Nicole almost sighed out loud. She could spend the rest of her life just looking at him like this. His gaze so intent on her, a smoldering fire turning those silvery orbs to a darker gunmetal gray. The scene almost made her falter. Sharing a glass of wine after a long day at work. Making love until an exhausted sleep overtook them. A yearning so fierce rose in Nicole that her breath caught.
This, she reminded that silly part of her that wanted to dream, was all she and Ian would ever share. A few days alone before they took down the hitman stalking her, or, she admitted, before he took one or both of them down. Nothing with Ian was permanent. They had no future. Nicole blinked back the tears that burned behind her lids. She sucked in a harsh breath and forced her feet to take her all the way to his side.
“Thank you,” she managed without her voice quaking. Nicole sipped the sweet wine, then emptied the gla
ss. “Another, please.”
Ian frowned a bit, but didn’t argue. Those incredible hands merely set to the task, the long fingers of one hand cradling the bottle of wine, the other holding the slender stem of Nicole’s glass. Her gaze made a path up his arm to his broad shoulders, then to the face that stole the breath she had only just regained. Ian Michaels was devastatingly handsome, completely honorable and totally selfless.
And Nicole would never, ever recover from the destruction to her heart.
She accepted the refilled glass and walked to the bed. She placed her drink on the night table and crouched down to pull one of the plastic containers from beneath the bed. She angled the chocolates on the table in front of her wine, then prowled through the container until she found what she was looking for. She hid the item she would need most behind the chocolates, then reached back into the container for the body oil. Strawberries and champagne. Nicole smiled when she considered that Ian was likely watching her every move. She pushed the box of wicked toys out of the way and climbed onto the bed. With painstaking slowness and thoroughness, Nicole massaged the scented oil into her skin. Her right leg was first, her foot included. Nicole stretched it this way and that until she had given full attention to every square inch. Then she gave the same treatment to the left.
When Nicole stole a glance in Ian’s direction from beneath her lids, he was standing stock-still by the table, his empty glass still clutched in his hand. Time to turn up the heat, she decided. Nicole dropped her feet back onto the floor and stood, her back to Ian. She unbuttoned the shirt and shrugged it off, allowing it to drop to the floor. With the same ambition, she rubbed the oil on first one arm and then the other. The scent was fabulous. Nicole closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She moaned her approval. How could anyone resist this tantalizing fragrance?
“What are you doing, Nicole?”
Nicole shivered. He was right behind her. Her eyes opened. She bit back a little smile of triumph. “I’m bored, Ian,” she said languidly. She turned to face him. His eyes immediately moved over her body, heating her skin as if he were touching her. “There’s nothing else to do but talk and I don’t want to talk,” she added nonchalantly. His analyzing gaze riveted to hers, Nicole took the opportunity to smooth her oil-covered hand over her chest, then the part of her breasts exposed above the red satin. His gaze traced her every move. Nicole inhaled deeply and released it on an exaggerated sigh of contentment. “This feels really nice. Would you like to try it?”
“Don’t play games with me,” Ian warned in a distinctly tight voice.
Nicole allowed him a teasing smile. “Games can be fun, Ian.” She thrust the oil into his hand and climbed back onto the bed. “Here,” she instructed from her prone position, “do my back.” Several tense seconds clicked by while Ian’s gaze traveled the length of her. From her vantage point, there was no way to miss just how she was affecting Ian. The thick bulge of his arousal made her feminine muscles tighten, sending a tingle through her.
Ian’s gaze connected with hers and Nicole’s heart thudded in her chest at the sheer heat she saw there. But she didn’t miss the rhythmic flexing of the tiny muscle in his tense jaw. He was fighting rather than yielding to the desire so obviously burning inside him.
Nicole scrambled to her knees then and moved to the edge of the bed, within easy reach of him. She hadn’t gone this far to give up without a fight of her own. She reached up and undid her hair, allowing it to slip down around her shoulders. Nicole pitched the pins in the general direction of the bedside table. She snagged Ian’s hand in hers and tugged. He resisted at first, but then allowed her to pull him a step closer to the bed. Nicole moistened her lips in one long, languid stroke, then pressed a tiny kiss to his lips. “Don’t make me beg, Ian,” she murmured, her eyes searching his, urging him to react.
Surrender flared in those silvery depths, the oil dropped to the floor. Ian cupped her face in his hands and pulled her mouth up to his. His kiss was brutal, relentless and unmercifully hot. Too many feelings to name rushed through Nicole, all focusing on her center, making her wet and hot and needy. Her hands went to his chest and found their way under his sweater. The feel of his muscled body beneath her fingers almost undid her completely. Nicole drew back, but Ian stole another taste of her mouth before she escaped his reach. She tugged his sweater up and over his head, then tossed it to the floor. She couldn’t prevent the smile of approval when she surveyed his tousled hair and amazing chest. He no longer wore the bandage on his shoulder. The wound was healing nicely. A reminder of how close she had come to losing him. She would make sure that didn’t happen again. Nicole encircled his waist, removed his gun, and placed it in the container on the floor next to the bedside table.
Ian pulled her hard against him and lowered her to the bed. His weight covered her, making her weak with want. Not until he had trapped her fully between his powerful thighs did Ian lower his mouth to hers once more. His taste filled her, tempted her beyond all reason. Nicole fought to hold onto her sanity. Slowly, thoroughly, he kissed her as no one else ever had, and it went on forever. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he nibbled her lower lip. Nicole whimpered as he moved lower still, down the column of her throat. Each tender kiss took him closer and closer to the pebbled peaks begging for his attention. He exposed one taut nipple. Nicole’s fingers fisted in the smooth sheets beneath her. Ian’s wine-kissed breath rushed over her breast, sending another wave of intense desire to her core. He licked and taunted with the tip of his tongue, again and again, before he took that wanting peak into his mouth and sucked. Nicole writhed beneath him, the feel of denim against her skin only adding to the delicious friction.
She had to stop him, regain control before she lost it completely. Nicole placed the heels of her hands against his shoulders and forced his tempting mouth from her body. His breath ragged, his eyes fierce, he looked to Nicole for an explanation of why he had to stop. She summoned her most alluring smile. “I want to be on top,” she whispered, then rubbed her knee along the inside of his thigh. Ian rolled over, pulling her onto his waist. Nicole pressed her heat against his arousal to show her approval. Ian groaned and closed his eyes with the same agony she felt.
Nicole blinked away the image of how he looked beneath her. Dark, dangerous and completely at her mercy. She had to get a grip on the situation. Ensuring that her body grazed his, she reached for the oil, then settled astride his lean hips. Nicole pulled his hands from her thighs and placed them above his head. She leaned down to nip at his lips, allowing that dark stubble to tease her skin. He tried to capture her mouth, but she was too fast for him.
“Hold on right here,” she murmured as she guided his hands to the spindles of the brass headboard. When he obeyed her command, Nicole rewarded him with several long, undulating strokes of her heat along the length of his arousal. Each languid move propelled her closer and closer to release. She squeezed him with her thighs, making him groan savagely with pleasure. Nicole massaged the scented oil onto his chest, tasting every now and then, paying particular attention to the ruddy peaks of his male nipples. Ian lifted against her, and Nicole closed her eyes to fight the almost overwhelming need to take him inside her. Her feminine muscles clenched and throbbed. She was so wet, the thin panel of silk between her thighs was drenched with the evidence of her desire. She had to finish this now, or she would never be able to stop. Nicole planted a trail of slow, hot kisses to his navel. She hesitated there, laving that part of his body with special attention. Ian stiffened, then relaxed. He was on the verge. Any second now, he would be beyond stopping. He would simply roll Nicole over and bury himself inside her, and she would be too far gone to stop him. She wanted him…badly.
When Nicole unbuttoned his fly and flicked her tongue there, he jerked. She slowly slid his zipper down, then pushed her hands between the denim and smooth silk of his navy blue boxers. He made a strained sound and his hands tightened on the brass spindles. His muscles flexed, making Nicole’s heart flutter beneath her s
ternum. She tamped down the urge to reach up and glide her hands over all that taunt muscle. She eased back, pushed his jeans off his hips as he obediently lifted them from the bed. Nicole removed his shoes and socks, tossed them aside, then tugged his jeans the rest of the way off. They landed on the floor atop his shoes.
He was very hard. The thick ridge of his arousal beneath the dark silk made Nicole ache with the need to be filled by him. She crawled on her hands and knees up the length of his body, pausing to torment his sensitive navel once more. She was pushing him ever closer to the edge, she knew, but she just couldn’t stop herself. Ian’s hands went around her arms and he pulled her up to him. Nicole’s heart froze. Too late. His breath was hot on her lips. His eyes were frantic.
“This is your last chance to stop, Nicole,” he rasped, that soft accent thick with his desire. “If you’re having second thoughts…” His eyes searched hers as his words trailed off.
Nicole swallowed, then essayed a mischievous smile. “This is my show, Michaels.” She pulled free of his grasp and pushed his hands back above his head. “We do this my way.” Nicole closed her eyes in ecstasy as she ground the throbbing heat between her thighs into his arousal one more time for good measure. With nothing but the thin layers of silk between them, pleasure screamed through her. “I promise it will be like nothing you’ve ever experienced,” she said tautly.
Ian’s answering groan was all that Nicole needed to hear. She opened her eyes to find his closed tight. His hips moved restlessly beneath her. He was ready, she decided. Leaning down to suck hard on his right nipple, Nicole used the distraction to reach behind the chocolates and retrieve the item she had hidden there. She moved to the left nipple, nibbling with her teeth, then sucking hard. Before the movements of her hands penetrated Ian’s haze of lust, Nicole had the handcuffs around his left wrist and one metal spindle about midway on the headboard, effectively shackling him to the bed. Frowning, Ian reached for her with his free hand. Nicole scrambled backwards out of his reach.
