“Truth not so pretty when you hear someone else say it?” he demanded as ice settled in his veins because she didn’t deny the accusation.
The stinging slap that landed on his right cheek shocked him enough that he let go. She scrambled away, nearly gelding him with her knee.
“I wanted to sleep with you because I’m just as lonely as you are, you fucking bastard!” Her shout came from across the room, in the direction of the fireplace. “You held me last night, and took care of me. I thought maybe there was a little tenderness inside you!”
She sobbed, and the sound ripped his heart out.
“After the robbery, when my boyfriend realized... He fucking walked out, couldn’t deal with me, yet you held me and told me everything was going to be all right.”
“Christy...” What could he say to take back his cruel words?
She sniffled. In a voice hoarse with tears, she said, “You obviously don’t think much of me if you honestly believe I’d have sex with you because I felt sorry for you.”
She was right. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He’d offended her because of his own insecurities, his own fears.
“I don’t give a shit about your scars. You’re a physically attractive man—very attractive. Anyone who can’t look beyond the flesh isn’t worth knowing—a lesson learned in grade school. I’ve watched you for two weeks. You work constantly. Beth sang your praises all the way up here from L.A. about what a great guy you are. But I think you showed me just how ugly you are on the inside, the only place that really counts.”
Mike’s stomach roiled with nausea at her words. “No... I’m not. I swear.”
She sniffed again.
“Christy... I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry I said those things.”
She sucked in a shuddery breath. “Why? ’Cuz the truth isn’t so pretty?”
She was right. He was ugly on the inside. Empty and dark. And he just pushed away the only person who ever offered him something sweet and pure. Her gentle affection.
The darkness threatened to consume him as it had so many times before. He slouched into the sofa cushions and closed his eye, willing it to just take him. Why had he hurt Christy that way?
“Mike?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to push you away, but I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The cushion dipped slightly, and he felt the warmth of her next to him. “Why do you want to push me away?”
He couldn’t find the words to answer. There were too many reasons. He settled on a question of his own. “What good am I to you? To any woman? I can’t do...anything.”
“Can’t do anything? You’re an award-winning author. Your books sell thousands if not millions of copies. What you can do amazes me. If I didn’t have my eyes, I’d be useless.”
“No.” She didn’t understand. “I can’t do anything outside this house. I scare people.”
She snorted. “Give me a break. It’s not that bad.”
“I’ve heard talk.” And it had nearly killed him.
“What talk? Who’s talking? What can you hear if you never leave the house?”
Mike took a deep breath. He hadn’t shared this with anyone. Hell, he never shared anything. He had talked more tonight with Christy than he had to a single person since his mom died three years ago.
“Two years ago, Beth came and got me and took me down to L.A. for a book signing. Only one I’ve ever done. She promised to be by my side and help me through it. She assured me that my scars weren’t that bad. My books sold like hotcakes, and my...injuries...might even boost sales. I should get out and mingle with my fans. Readers loved to meet the authors and learn their life’s story, she’d said. So like a dumb ass, I agreed, even though I knew from the start it was a bad idea.”
“What happened?” Christy asked, and he was glad to hear her voice strong and normal again. Her tears had obviously dried. He wanted to reach out to her, take her hand in his, take her in his arms again. But he’d lost that right when he accused her of...
“Barnes and Noble, downtown Los Angeles. Hundreds of fans wanting to meet me, Beth had said. I was fucking terrified. Only time I ever left home was to see the doctor, dentist or chiropractor.”
“And?”
He shrugged. “It went well for most of the afternoon. I talked with people, shook hands, signed books...”
“Would you get on with it?” Christy said, annoyance plain in her tone.
“Since losing my sight, my hearing is sharper. Every time you walked past the office, I heard you, even when I knew you were trying to be as silent as a mouse.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I prefer to know where people are than be surprised by them. But being that I can block out some things and concentrate harder on others, such as I can block the sound of the surf outside the window in order to hear the sound of the shower running upstairs in your bathroom, I inadvertently eavesdropped on a conversation I wish to God I’d never heard.”
“Some woman commenting about your scars?”
He pursed his lips and nodded. “You could say that. She said that for the size of my wallet, she’d fuck even a disfigured monster like me.”
“Oh, God.”
Mike shrugged. “It’s burned into my brain for eternity. Since I knew you weren’t after my money, or at least I assume you’re not, the only logical reason left would be...pity.”
Reaching for the end of the armrest so he could pull himself up, he said, “I am sorry. I’m a writer and can’t come up with anything more profound. I hate that I made you cry. I hate that...” He swallowed the lump growing in his throat. He didn’t want her to see him as ugly. If he could redo the night, he’d show her he could be whatever she needed.
“Goodnight, Christy.” He gripped the armrest and started to stand, but cool fingers on his bare arm halted him. He plopped back onto the sofa.
“Wait,” she said. “Tell me one more thing...”
“What?”
“Were you really thinking about me this morning when you were in your office?”
Christy curled her fingers around Mike’s wrist and prayed he wouldn’t leave. She hadn’t understood. Now she knew he hadn’t been trying to make her sound like a... She didn’t know what, but his accusations had scored her heart worse than anything any other man had ever done or said to her. But he’d been lashing at her out of self-preservation. How could she condemn him for trying to shield himself from more pain?
Mike dropped his head forward, his shoulders rounded in defeat. “I shouldn’t have said that to you.”
“But was it true?” she pressed. After the roller coaster her emotions had been through in the last hour because of this man, one still outweighed all the others. She wanted him. And now, after hearing his deepest hurts, she thought he needed her, too, and not just for physical gratification.
She could take away some of his emotional pain and replace it with good memories. If he’d let her.
“Yes, Christy. It’s true. I know I’m a bastard, but I told you I wanted you from the first day.” He turned his face toward her. “Now do you see why I live alone? I’m not good with people. And with you...” His eye closed, and he let out a slow breath. “You scare me,” he whispered.
Oh, this is wonderful. He’s opening up to you. Don’t let him stop now.
Christy glared in the direction from which the voice came. The woman had been yapping in her ear the entire time, telling her that Mike didn’t mean any of the hurtful things he’d said, that he was lashing out. The fact that she’d been right just made Christy more determined to ignore her.
Of course, she’d been ready to run to her room and lock the door after she’d gotten done yelling at Mike for being so rude. The voice had begged her to look at him, and when she had, she’d seen the agony etched on his features. Her words had cut him to the quick, as bad as his had her.
She closed her eyes for a moment to steady herself. “I don’t think I’ve ever had any man fantasize about me to the
point of...” A little smile tugged at her lips. She wasn’t used to discussing such...personal matters. But now was not the time for shyness. If they were going to work past their argument, then the only thing warranted here was honesty.
“I’m not sure you fantasizing about me is any worse than me standing there watching you masturbate. It turned me on, and all I wanted was to be in that chair with you, straddling you, feeling you deep inside of me.”
Mike groaned. “Please, stop.” He pulled his arm from her and scooted to the edge of the couch, readying to stand.
“I don’t want to stop. I want to make it happen.” She licked her lips, and her breathing grew shallow as she again envisioned taking him inside her. She’d wanted it all day. “I want you to...um...”
“What? Say it.”
She’d never used the word in this context, but making love didn’t sound right either. Even though her heart knew the truth of her feelings, she didn’t want to scare him away. She doubted he was ready to make even the smallest commitment, and making love for a man was another beast entirely.
So she raised her chin, looked into his one eye, and said, “Fuck me.”
He stared at her—or at least in her direction—but didn’t say anything.
“No strings. No...anything,” she promised. “But I think it’s what we both want tonight, isn’t it?” She wasn’t so sure, though. His lips had pressed into a thin line. The muscle in his jaw ticked as he clenched his teeth.
Finally, he spoke. “How could you? After all the things that were just said here, how could you possibly still want—”
She surged forward and pressed her lips against his. He gasped in surprise, and she stroked her tongue into his mouth, testing the ridges of his teeth, the silkiness of his tongue. He tasted so good. Smelled so good. Pure masculinity. No cologne, just clean, healthy male.
When he dragged her onto his lap and wrapped his arms around her, she moaned at the sizzling sensations that zinged through her blood, heating her body, tightening her nipples, and making her clench her thighs to alleviate the throb in her core.
Mike pulled back from the kiss in slow increments, until his lips just barely touched hers.
“You apologized,” Christy whispered. “I accept your apology and ask you to accept mine. You’re not ugly inside. You’re just...hurt. Like a wounded bear, you lash out.”
A gusty chuckle breezed across her lips from his. “First I’m a phantom, and now I’m a bear. Maybe you should start working on your similes.”
Christy chuckled then placed a light kiss on his lips, his cheek, and over his scars. “Don’t push me away anymore. I’m not going to hurt you. Stop trying to hurt me.”
Mike cradled her in his arms, holding her tight. He leaned down and nuzzled her neck with his lips. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She tipped her head to the side as he skimmed his teeth along the sensitive tendon. “Then give me what I need,” she said on a groan as he slipped one hand beneath her sweatshirt and slid it up toward her aching breast. “Give us both what we need.”
“Christ, you taste good.” His hand rose up and up until his palm splayed over her breast.
She arched her back, pressing her aching, tingling nipple against his warm palm.
He kissed his way up her neck to her ear. His breathing was heavy, his breath so hot against her cool skin. “I can’t believe...” He suckled her earlobe between his lips, and a soft cry slipped from her throat. “I can’t believe you want this.”
“I do. With all my...” Heart. She closed her eyes and let his mouth and hands spiral her into a space where only the two of them existed. Where nothing could come between them. Where his soul was whole and her life wasn’t ruled by fear. She felt no panic in his arms, only pure, driving lust. And the small, warm glow of blossoming love.
He plucked her nipple between two fingers as he moved back to her mouth and caught her bottom lip between his teeth. He growled and shifted slightly back onto the couch, sinking into the soft cushions. Her hip rested against the long, hard ridge of his stiff cock.
She tugged his shirt up and splayed her hands against his skin.
“Ahh,” he sighed into her mouth an instant before he took possession and speared his tongue between her teeth, expertly gliding it along hers, teasing, coaxing her to do the same.
Wrapping her arms around his neck to keep from losing contact, she sat up and threw her leg over his, regaining her perched position, straddling him as she’d fantasized doing since that morning. She ground her pussy against him and cursed the clothing between their bodies.
“Honey,” he groaned as he caught her hips and held her tight against him. “You’re killing me.”
The laugh that slipped out of her was low and throaty. “I’m right there with you.”
Well, since you two obviously don’t need me anymore...I’ll leave you to finish up here.
Christy jerked her head back just as all the lights in the living room snapped out.
“What is it?” Mike asked, his hands on her lower back under her shirt. “What’s wrong?”
“The power went out again.”
Mike tipped his head to the side then shook it. “I hear the refrigerator running. Power’s still on.”
A shiver went through her, and she glanced around the room. She couldn’t hear the fridge, but she believed him. Oh, good grief. What if the voice wasn’t in her head?
“You okay? You’re not having another anxiety thing, are you?”
A snort slipped out, and then she tugged his shirt up to his armpits. “No anxiety, just thinking I’m hearing voices is all.”
Mike raised his arms so she could pull his shirt off. “Voices? Saying what?” He didn’t seem too concerned with the fact she sounded crazy.
“Oh, man,” she said in appreciation as she ran her hands over his well-formed pecs down to his washboard stomach. “I didn’t do anything naughty about it,” she said with a grin, “but I’ve been fantasizing about this chest since the day I met you.”
The soft glow of the fire danced over his gorgeous skin. He chuckled, leaned back, folded his hands behind his head, and flexed his biceps. “I hope you do something naughty about it now.”
She laughed, amazed at how fast they’d fallen back into the teasing. “Oh, Michael, I will.” She leaned over, caught one flat, pebbled male nipple between her teeth, and lightly sucked.
Mike’s breath hissed out, and his hands found their way into her hair. She moved to the other nipple while running her fingers through his silky chest hair.
His hands moved down her back and caught the bottom of her sweatshirt. She sat up long enough to let him pull it off of her, then went back to teasing his nipples, nipping at his pecs, and running her palms over his hard, six-pack abs. The man was so gorgeous it nearly killed her. She wanted him in her, on her, over her. Now.
But she didn’t want to rush it, either. She wanted tonight to last, to be the perfect memory for the both of them.
The chilly air raised goose bumps on her arms and sides, adding to her pleasure. When his heated hands came back to her skin, she cried out and ground her pussy against him. His big hands cupped her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples to the point of agony.
“My turn,” he said in a gravelly voice that didn’t sound like him. Then he pushed her back a bit and leaned forward, unerringly homing in on her left nipple.
Gripping his shoulders, she bit her tongue to keep from screaming. Fire and ice shot through her, nearly sending her over the edge with just that simple touch. No, not simple. Nothing was simple about the way his tongue swirled around her areola, or how he knew just how hard to suckle to make her feel it in her core.
He switched to the other breast, repeating the slow, sensual caress.
“Please,” she whimpered.
As he kissed his way back up to her mouth, his hands slid around to her back, then down into her sweatpants where he squeezed her butt.
Yes!
He grunte
d. “What a sweet ass.”
She sucked his tongue into her mouth to shut him up. She wanted him lower, inside her. When he did drop one hand and curled his fingers through her pubic hair, she nearly came undone as pleasure raced through her.
With his other hand, he came around her front. In a simultaneous stroke, he sank two fingers deep in her pussy and flicked the pad of a finger over her clit.
Christy threw back her head, screamed, and gripped his shoulders. She rotated her hips against his hands and came as bright spots of light exploded behind her closed eyelids.
His teeth closed over her nipple, and he sucked it deep into his mouth. She cried out again as another wave broke over. He pumped his fingers deep inside her, hitting just the right spot, and she shook with the force of the orgasm while he pinched and lightly tugged on her clit.
“That’s it, honey,” he said while his hot, ragged breaths fanned over her breasts. “That’s it. Come for me again.”
Whimpering, she ground against his long fingers. She opened her eyes and looked down at the top of his head, his dark hair showing golden streaks in the dancing firelight. She cupped his cheeks in her palms and raised his head.
“Kiss me,” she begged.
He did. With hard, driving passion, he stroked his tongue inside her mouth at the same slow, steady pace his fingers delved into her core.
Heat infused her entire body, a fine sheen of perspiration coated her skin, and then the building pressure broke. She whimpered as another flourish of ecstasy rushed over her, through her.
No man had ever made her come so hard or so fast with just a touch of his hands and mouth. She collapsed against his chest, panting, waiting for the world to stop spinning.
As she calmed and a chill settled over her, she realized every muscle in Mike’s body was clenched, and he panted hard, his arms banded tight around her middle.
How selfish of her. He was aching, and she’d only taken her pleasure. She kissed his shoulder, his neck, then reached between them and flipped open the buttons of his jeans.
“Stop,” he said, his voice strangled.
Chailali’s Curse Page 7
