by Faye Avalon
“Don’t I know it.” She caressed his biceps. “You don’t have to worry about crushing me. I’m stronger than I look.”
He hoped to hell she was, because he could swear there were still little hearts in her eyes, despite her assurances that she’d hired him out of curiosity and for the experience of enjoying a male escort.
With extreme reluctance he pulled out of her and dropped onto his back. “Was it good for you?”
She was silent for a moment, then laughed. “Your post-coital dialogue could do with a brush-up. It sounds like it comes straight from the manual.”
He turned to look at her. “You read the manual?”
She laughed again, aware he was teasing her, and turned on her side to face him. He jerked when she traced a finger over his tattoo. “I don’t remember this.”
He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter.
She hiked onto one elbow, but continued to trace the Celtic cross. “You always said you’d never get a tattoo, even when my brother got his.”
Yes, and he’d meant it. His refusal was a poke at his father. Since it was virtually impossible to find a spot on that bastard’s body that wasn’t inked, James had been determined not to follow suit. Until that night seven years ago. “Things change.”
“What does it mean?”
“Who the hell knows? I just thought it looked cool.”
She smiled again. “It suits you, or at least it suits who you were. I’m not sure it does now. You’re all suave, sophisticated. Not at all the bad boy you were in college when all the girls wanted you to notice them.”
Hard to disagree about the tattoo, especially considering he had once contemplated having it removed. But then he’d decided to keep it. As a warning of what was inside him, of what he might slip back to if ever he took his eye off the ball. Not that there was any chance of that. He’d come too far, worked too hard to make himself into the man he was now. There was no going back.
“What are you saying? That ink is only for the bad boys?”
“Of course not.” She gave him a playful thump on the shoulder, before stroking her fingers over his skin again and making his flesh heat. “When did you get it?”
Shit, she wasn’t going to let this drop. He thought about trying to simply shrug it off again, but she had that glint in her eye that warned there was no way in hell she intended to let the subject go. He remembered that glint well. She’d used it often and had always gotten her own way with him, but then she’d been a kid and it had been easy to indulge her the odd lift to a friend’s house, or a ticket to the movies. But all that had changed the night she’d turned eighteen.
“I was drunk one night.”
“You got drunk a lot,” she reasoned. “But you still wouldn’t get a tattoo. What was different about that night?”
Maybe it was best just to spit it out. Tell her the truth. It would go some way to reestablishing the ground rules for this little shindig of hers. “I got it the night you came on to me.”
Her eyes went wide. “Really? Why?”
Witch. Did she want him to confess that he’d been so damned guilty about what had happened, so ashamed of himself, that he’d meant it as penance, as a way of always remembering what an asshole he was. His father had told him often enough, and that night, after treating Lexi that way, James had wondered if the bastard might have had a point.
Just my fucking luck to raise a loser like you. Mess up every damn thing you touch. Next thing some hard ass will turn up on my doorstep claiming you’ve knocked up his daughter. Just don’t expect me to bail you out of that shithole, boy.
Frigging memories. Ruthlessly, James ordered them back. He’d become adept at pushing his past to the dark recesses of his mind, at pigeonholing his thoughts, but tonight with Lexi was stirring up old ghosts.
“Like I said, I got drunk. It was a dare.”
He thought she’d press it some more, but she laid her head on his chest. “I like it.”
So did he, he thought. But he wasn’t referring to the tattoo. What he liked was lying here like this, with Lexi’s lush body pressed close to his, her breath whispering along his skin, her hand stroking down his torso and across his abdomen.
He closed his eyes, uncharacteristically decided to ignore the warning bells, and simply indulged himself for a few minutes.
But his eyes came open when Lexi’s hand slid lower.
“I was just wondering,” she said. “What did it say in the manual about how many times the client can anticipate getting laid during the course of the night?”
He felt her smile against his chest. And shit, he was growing hard again.
“That’s negotiable,” he said deciding to play along. “It’s not a hard and fast rule.”
Her fingers danced over his rapidly growing erection. “Well, if we’re talking hard,” she stroked firmly over his length. “And fast, come to that.”
When his cock jumped, she grinned up at him. “Are you ready for the next round?”
He wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever be ready for more of Lexi. But he wanted her, damn it. Couldn’t help himself. What had happened to the skilled professional? The man who could so easily compartmentalize his thoughts? He spared no worry for his feelings, because he’d deadened those years ago. Any feelings that speared through the barrier were residual memories of a time when he’d considered that maybe things could be different. That he could be like his friends, his colleagues, and travel the road that might bring him a relationship happy-ever-after. But it wasn’t for him. It never could be. Not even with Lexi.
Especially not with Lexi. She’d always been able to make him reveal too much of himself, had always made him think beyond what he knew was possible for him.
Shit. Wasn’t that happening right now? Wasn’t she making him take his eye off the ball? Making him act out of character? Making him think about impossibilities?
“Why don’t we take a break?” He eased away from her and her deadly hands. His blood was up, as was his cock, but he needed distance, damn it. He needed to get away from her.
He rolled off the bed, glancing back to see her watching him. Fuck, but she looked so damned delicious lying there, her limbs sinuous and loose from sex, her skin bearing a sensuous flush, her lips pink and swollen. And her eyes…
Where in God’s name had that innocent girl gone? In her place was a woman whose fierce and determined gaze said that he might be in favor of having a break, but she was damned well intent on heating things up again. And soon.
He strode into the bathroom to dispose of the condom, and returned to find her stretching sinuously.
Transfixed, he stared at her. She gave a little smile, almost sly, and dipped her lashes. Licking her lips, she slid one foot up the curve of her leg and down again. Up and down. All the while licking those luscious, tempting lips of hers.
Since he was throbbing almost painfully, he sucked in a breath and walked up to the side of the bed. She sank back, knowingly, and slid her hands up the sides of her ribcage, showcasing those delicious breasts.
With his knee between her legs he braced his hands either side of her head. “Think you know it all, don’t you?” Leaning down, he placed a light kiss on that sumptuous mouth. “Think you’ve got all the answers.”
She reached up and kissed him back. “Perhaps some of them. I got you back in bed, didn’t I?”
He had no hope in hell of holding out against the light in her eyes. “Yeah, you got me back in bed.”
Watching her, he brought his knee to the apex of her thighs, felt the wet warmth of her against his skin. He kneed her gently, and she gyrated against him, her body a sensuous curve of temptation. “That feels really nice,” she said, and closed her eyes.
With his hand on her inner thigh, he opened her up more. Shit, but she was so wet his knee slid easily over her heat.
She moaned and reached up, her fingers digging none too gently into his shoulders. “Oh hell, that feels really good. Don’t stop.”
“Not planning to.” He was barely able to get the words out as his chest tightened along with his dick. He slid a finger into her folds, used it along with the friction of his knee to bring her to the edge of climax.
She arched her neck, and he greedily traced his tongue along the exposed flesh. Her breasts brushed up against his chest, the nipples like hard little rocks as they grazed his skin. He wasn’t sure who moaned the louder now, not that he cared. All he cared about, all he wanted, was to be inside her again.
She all but thrashed against the mattress. “James, that’s…”
Realizing she was about to come, James laved his tongue around her nipple and increased the friction against her core.
“Yeah,” he grated around her nipple. “Knee fucking. It’s one of my specialties.”
She gave weight to that boast when her hips locked and she bore down against his knee. “Oh, bloody hell…”
He kept up the rhythm while she climaxed. When her head relaxed back against the pillow, and her breathing softened, he gave one final rotation of his knee, one last gentle bite to her nipple, then shifted over her. “Good?”
She gave a breathless laugh. “Good enough that you should patent that.”
He wanted to make some pithy comment, but his cock was throbbing too hard. Reaching out, he grabbed another condom, then came back between her knees. Her body was all loose and lax, but he anchored her legs apart and pushed the head of his cock against her wet folds. She made a sound low in her throat, and he drove forward.
It took only a few thrusts for the pressure to build. Shit. He could usually control himself. In fact, he’d made it into an art form. Yet here he was about to shoot his load after a few less than finessed thrusts.
Beneath him, Lexi’s hips undulated, her breasts jiggled, and he lost the final thread of his minimal control. He pumped. Hard. So hard that the bedhead rattled against the wall, the wooden joints creaked, and their bodies shoved several inches up the mattress.
He was like a wild man. Stripped of his control. He warned himself that he should wait for Lexi … for the client … to finish first, but her lush body contracted in frenzied urgency, her fingers digging hard into his biceps, her teeth biting into her lower lip.
He lost it. Coming so hard his head spun.
Stripped of everything that he had fashioned himself into being, he simply rode the wave.
****
“I don’t know what you’re all pissy about,” Lexi said as she fetched her silky robe from the closet. “I simply asked if you fancied a sandwich.”
Lexi thought she deserved an award for the incredible acting ability she’d displayed for the last few hours. Okay, maybe she had slipped a few times, and revealed her true feelings to James, but she didn’t think those minor indiscretions warranted his icy mood. They’d made love three times in the space of as many hours, and right now she needed sustenance. She’d thought he did, too, but apparently, she’d gotten it wrong. Again.
“Like I said, you don’t need to feed me,” he said grumpily from the bed. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Pulling on the robe, she tightened the belt with a hard yank. She was pissy herself now. “Oh, don’t worry. We all know why you’re here. Believe me, you’ve made that clear enough.”
“I just don’t want those boundaries blurred. It can make things complicated.”
There was a flatness in his tone, and it stopped Lexi in her tracks. “Complicated how?”
He gave the customary shrug, which pissed her off some more. She was getting really tired of his shutdown techniques. Saying nothing more, she turned and made for the kitchen. If he didn’t want anything to eat, fair enough. But she did.
Halfway through buttering a slice of sourdough bread, Lexi became aware of his presence behind her at the kitchen door.
“Changed your mind?” she asked, venom thick in her tone. “Because if you have, you need to make sure we’re not venturing into forbidden territory and summoning the hounds of hell to deal with our transgression.”
When he was silent, she glanced over her shoulder. Her initial disappointment at seeing he’d pulled on his trousers was trounced by the way he leaned lazily—sexily—against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his impressively muscular chest.
“For a taste of what you’re making, I think I’ll take a chance with the hounds.”
“It’s a simple sandwich.”
“You’ve got ham there, and cheese, and pickles.”
He pushed away from the doorjamb and strolled across to her. She resumed making her sandwich, but a flash of pleasure pushed through the grimness of her previous mood.
“Most women spread the butter thinly, if they use it at all.” He was close up behind her and she could still smell sex on him. That, together with his distinctly woody scent, made her toes curl.
“Well, I’m not most women. I like to enjoy what I’m eating.”
His hands landed either side of the worktop, encasing her in his heat and that heady scent. His lips brushed her ear, and he nibbled lightly at her earlobe. “So do I.”
Oh God. Did he have to have such a deep and gravelly voice? Did he have to say such erotic things when she didn’t have a hope in hell’s chance of not reacting to them?
“I seem to recall you have a healthy appetite.” She made herself keep buttering the bread in a vain attempt to ignore the memory of him between her legs indulging in that very appetite. The sight of his dark head moving sensuously and with delicious intent, the feel of his tongue tracing softly between her intimate lips before pushing hard and driving her home.
She swallowed, and he turned her around to face him. “I don’t mean to upset you, Lexi. But I don’t want to hurt you either.”
“Why would you hurt me?”
“Because I know you. I know that you’ve always cared about people, worn your heart on your sleeve. This kind of set up is not how you roll.”
She folded her arms. “And you’d know that, would you? You’ve seen me, what? Half a dozen times in the last seven years, and yet you know all about me?”
“I kept track of what you were doing. What your whole family was doing. Your folks were always good to me, so in some ways I consider you all family.”
That pushed like a knife in her ribcage. “So what does that make me? Your pseudo sister? Is that what all this pushing me away is about?”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
“So you said.”
“There’s no point getting upset, Lex. Things are as they are.”
“And how exactly are they?” The hurt had morphed into anger. “Are you going to tell me that you never wanted me because of some misguided loyalty to my family? That you never allowed yourself to care for me in that way?”
“Something like that.”
Since he wouldn’t make eye contact with her, she knew he was lying.
“But you do care for me in that way, don’t you?” Lexi might not have all the answers, but she knew when a man felt something. And James felt something. “You’ve always cared about me. Even when you threw me out on a limb, you cared. That’s why you did it, because you wanted me that night. Really wanted me.”
His eyebrows came together in a scowl. “I haven’t a fucking clue what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” She lifted her face to his, so that their lips were inches away. “Tell me the real reason you wouldn’t have sex with me that night.”
If possible, his frown deepened. “I was drunk. And so were you. A guy doesn’t take advantage like that.”
“Oh, come on. You can do better than that.”
He drew away and pushed his fingers through his hair. “This is a mistake.”
She reached for his arm, curbing her temper as it wanted to spike again. “It wasn’t then, and it isn’t now. Tell me you don’t want me.”
“Of course I want you.” Exasperated, he grimaced as he pushed his hands through his hair again. “You don’t really know what I am, Lex. Back t
hen I was the kid from numerous foster homes, always in trouble, played on the wrong side of the law more than once. What the fuck right did I have to seduce you that night? You were an innocent kid who deserved more than I could offer you.”
“That’s complete bullshit. My brothers spent more than their fair share of time in overnight custody. They weren’t exactly choirboys.”
“Yeah. Mostly thanks to me.”
“More bullshit.”
Grabbing her arm, he pulled her up close, his own temper evident in the tight planes of his face. “Don’t you think I’ve regretted what sort of person I was back then? That I regretted what happened between us? Don’t you think I wanted to take you that night? Do everything I’d thought of doing for shit knows how long?”
She glared up at him, unwilling to back down now. “Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I wasn’t worthy of you, Lex. Don’t you get that?”
“No. I don’t.”
He released her, stepping back, but she grabbed his arm. “I don’t get it. What makes you think you weren’t worthy?” She grabbed his chin and made him face her. “Is it because you got into trouble more times than not? If that’s the case, then you should take a reality check. Pushing the limits of the law a time or two doesn’t mean you have to do penance for the rest of your life.”
He frowned and removed her hand from his face. “It’s not that simple. There were reasons your brother warned me off and told me to stay away from you.”
Lexi startled. “He did what?”
“I don’t blame him for it. Shit, if I had a sister I’d keep her away from guys like me, too.”
“He warned you off?” All this was news to her, but it burned in her chest that her brother would do something like this. Of all the nerve. Who did he think he was running her life?
“He was protecting you.”
“Something I didn’t need and still don’t, thanks very much.”
“From me, you do.”
Lexi frowned at his dark tone, watching him as he paced the room. Right then there was no sign of the slick professional he’d made himself into, only the ragged, ravaged expression of the rebellious youth of seven years ago.
