Double the Thrill
Page 7
Kisses? Zane wondered where those kisses might lead, but didn’t have the opportunity to ask her more, since they’d reached their table.
The meal was delicious but boring, so after dessert, they escaped the dinner party as quickly as was polite. Zane brought her upstairs for an after-dinner cocktail in the Seance Lounge. With its bordello-red velvet decor, soft lighting, plush sofa and stone fireplace, the bar perfectly mirrored his thoughts of seduction.
Sitting on a bar stool, crossing one shapely leg over the other, Toni cocked her head to one side and considered him. “You look exhausted.”
“I didn’t sleep much last night,” he admitted, determined to let her lead the conversation, curious to see where she would go.
“I’m sorry.” She started to slip off her stool. “Perhaps we should talk another time.”
If she thought he could go to sleep after she’d shown up looking hot enough to draw looks from every man over the age of consent, he would have to be a man with no passion, no curiosity. He’d have to be half dead. Because if she had calculated her actions to make him burn with curiosity, she’d succeeded.
And he still didn’t know why the hell she was here.
While she really did seem concerned about his lack of sleep, he could tell she had something weighty on her mind by the way she hesitated, almost waiting for him to keep her from leaving. He’d play along. “I’m fine.”
She edged back onto the stool and played with the rim of her glass with a fingertip. “Today was hectic in my shop. That picture in the paper sold lots of dresses.”
Her sudden change of topic caused a light to go on in his mind. She wanted to be seen with him for the publicity. Publicity brought customers into her boutique. Although slightly disappointed at such a mundane reason, he wanted her to be innocent of the problems at the paper. Finally, he had some clue to why she’d been stalking his brother. After Lane Morrow’s book, Grey was enduring his fifteen minutes of fame—Toni Maxwell wanted to share that fame to garner business for her store.
“So hanging out with me is good for business?”
Her eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn’t read. Surprise? Sorrow? Hesitation? He had the feeling that the bold seductive maneuvers weren’t the norm for her. Or was she simply hiding another damn secret?
“I need publicity,” she admitted, dipping one fingertip into her glass then touching it to her tongue in a sexy gesture that he refused to allow to distract him from concentrating on her words. “The more publicity, the better. And creating a scandal will create lots of publicity.”
“Let me get this straight. You want to create a scandal?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of scandal?”
“The sexual kind. And I don’t see why those sleazy tabloids should make all the money off of us.”
If he hadn’t had only one drink, he could have blamed his lack of comprehension on the alcohol. But he was sober and didn’t have an excuse. If she didn’t want the tabloids to print her sexual scandal, then was she insinuating that he print their story? She couldn’t be proposing what he thought she was. “What are you saying? That you want me to cover our sex scandal in the Louisiana Daily Herald?”
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It might raise circulation.”
Zane bit back a chuckle at her outrageous idea. Yet…increasing circulation was just what the paper needed right now. If she was right, and profits increased, no one would have to be fired, a task he knew Grey had been putting off.
She cocked her head, then licked her bottom lip, possibly from nerves, but she seemed very sure of herself. The contrast kept him intrigued, yet he also found the dichotomy in her behavior confusing.
“Do we have a deal?” she asked, her tone brazen, her expression just a bit hesitant.
“Let’s be very clear here. You want us to create a sex scandal and for me to write about it in the paper?”
“Yes.”
“You realize that creating a scandal in a city as decadent as New Orleans requires extra shockability to work on the public?”
“I do.”
“You’re prepared to go to the extreme?”
“I am.”
A good thing he and Grey had switched places. He couldn’t imagine his conservative twin accepting her bargain, let alone keeping his cool when such an attractive woman made the offer. On the other hand, Zane planned to enjoy himself fully. Of course, she’d believe she would be having sex with Grey, and Zane would be writing up their affair as if he were Grey. It was completely insane, but Zane would agree to her scheme for his own reasons. Staying close to her would allow him to ascertain if she was his saboteur—and he could enjoy himself at the same time.
“Exactly how far are you prepared to go?” he asked, his mouth dry, his voice even.
“That depends on you,” she countered, her grin tantalizing. “And how innovative you can be.”
5
ALTHOUGH TONI HAD SOUGHT to add passion to her life, she could barely believe she was this bold woman issuing challenging words like some kind of accomplished seductress. While she certainly was no blushing virgin, her sexual experiences had always been what she thought of as average. The location had usually been a bed, the positions had been limited to a few favorites, and the number of partners hadn’t been excessive. Nothing too unusual.
Her quest for a relationship with Grey Masterson had freed her of her ordinary inhibitions. In her business life, she’d always gone for risks. She could have taken a safe job with another designer and assured herself of a weekly paycheck, but instead she’d sunk every penny into opening up Feminine Touch and had existed on a shoestring for six nail-biting months. Making independent and risky decisions, knowing she was solely responsible for whether she succeeded or failed, had suited her. The challenging experience had been one of the most exhilarating in her life.
However, her social existence had become way too conservative. Perhaps she’d unconsciously figured that one major risk at a time was all the challenge she could bear. But now that her business talents were gaining attention, now that her designs were considered trendy, and the boutique was showing a steadily increasing profit, she was ready to take on the ultimate risk in her personal life. The risk of throwing caution to fate, the risk of throwing herself at sexy Grey Masterson.
Creating a scandal may have begun as a crazy idea to protect her father from the wrath of a jilted senator, but there were other advantages to her scheme. The simmering chemistry between Grey and herself had her eager to experiment. No matter how much she loved her father, no matter how much she didn’t want to hurt him or Bobby, who may or may not be interested in the senator herself, Toni would never take this next step unless she wanted Grey.
Now, her desire had taken on a dimension all its own. She found herself holding her breath, waiting to see what he would do next. Though she’d read Lane Morrow’s book, she’d never expected to like Grey as much as did, or want him as much as she did. And while Cosmopolitan didn’t suggest stalking as one of the ten top ways to meet a man, Toni would be a fool to back out now. Not when he looked good enough to eat for dessert. Not when the mere heat in his blue eyes, fringed with dark lashes, shot straight to her core. Not when she’d never ached so much for a man’s kiss as she did for his.
He cupped the back of her neck with a warm, firm touch that took control of her. “I can be very innovative.”
“I’m counting on it,” she murmured, anticipating his lips touching hers. Her mouth ready, her body arching, she leaned toward him.
Over her head, Grey locked eyes with the bartender and tipped his head toward the door. She heard the server head through the arched doorway, leaving them to their privacy. They currently had the semiprivate room to themselves, and while she was fully aware that anyone could walk in at any time, the hour was late. Although an interruption was unlikely, it was possible.
Grey dipped his head until his lips moved to within a whisper of hers. “You think kis
sing in a public place is scandalous?”
“That would depend on the kiss.”
Ever so slowly, his gaze riveted on hers, he lowered his mouth. She clenched her hands around his neck, tugging him closer. Close enough to feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough to see the pulse in his neck throb. Close enough to hear his breath skip. And while his tongue swept her into what felt like a riptide of sensation, his hand drifted from her neck, divesting her of her scarf, letting the silk and beads clatter to the floor. With her bare shoulders exposed, he peeled down the zipper at the back of her dress. In no rush, he worked slowly, giving her time to pull away from his mouth or to object to unzipping.
The cool air on the bared skin of her back, tempered by the heat of his fingers, shocked her almost as much as the thought of disrobing in a public place. And while his devastating kiss had her trembling for much more, she still weighed the risk of discovery. She doubted they’d be arrested. Worst-case scenario would be major embarrassment, which she could handle, if necessary.
With her mind made up to let the storm of his passion float her away on whatever course he chose, she gave herself up to enjoying the marvelous sensations rippling through her, the warmth of his hands on her shoulders stoking a matching need in her to remove his clothes.
She raised her fingers to loosen his tie, but the straps of her dress tangled around her wrists, trapping her hands at her sides. She shook an arm to free herself, and he pulled back his mouth enough to whisper, “Don’t move. I want to thoroughly enjoy this moment.”
He dropped his gaze to her bared breasts and her nipples immediately pebbled.
She swallowed hard. She was sitting half-naked in a bar, before a man who seemed totally in control of himself, while she felt as though she was going to come apart at loosened seams if he didn’t touch her. Now.
All he seemed to want to do was look. She tried to keep petulance from her tone. “I can’t just sit here while you look at me.”
“Why not?” His tone, husky but amused, poured through her like fine brandy, intoxicating her senses, firing her blood. “Looking at you gives me pleasure. And you do want to give me pleasure, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She’d never wanted a man so badly that her knees quivered. But she didn’t want him to know that she was already weak when he’d merely kissed her.
“If you’d like us both to enjoy a scandalous experience, you’ll have to be patient,” he warned, his eyes blazing with heat. “Can you be patient?”
She gritted her teeth as his gaze roved over her exposed curves. She didn’t mind him looking, or enjoying her body, but, damn it, what was he waiting for?
Wet heat had dampened her panties, and she ached for him to touch her. And while she’d accepted the consequences of being caught in public, fast, hard sex would lower the risk. Obviously, Grey didn’t mind taking risks, but he wasn’t the one standing naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.
“Can you be patient?” he repeated.
“Grey, if you don’t do something, I’m going to—”
“I am doing something. I’m looking at the most beautiful woman I’ve seen in a long time. Desire makes your gray eyes darken. Your lips are full from my kisses and—”
“Stop teasing me.”
“Why?”
“Because I need more than your gaze on my body.”
“You aren’t aroused by a compliment?”
She spoke through jaws clenched with frustration. “I need more.”
He licked the tip of his finger, slowly wetting the skin as he sucked on the tip, taunting her as he silently promised a reward if she could summon up additional patience. She held her breath. Finally, he touched the tip of her nipple.
At the dampness, combined with the cool air and the rasp of his finger which drew her focus, she gasped. Her breasts swelled achingly. How had he made her so sensitive to his slightest caress? So eager to go further, do more, be more than ever before? As though a wildness inside raged to let loose, she urged him on.
“I need more,” she demanded again, slightly breathless.
His finger transferred to her other breast. “Look at me.”
Oh God! She tilted her head, let him see her need, the gesture more exhilarating and more intimate than any she’d yet experienced with this man. A man she barely knew.
His cheeks chiseled with determination, his mouth firm with resolve, he demanded, “Are you aroused?”
“You need to ask?”
“How long can you hold back?”
His question shocked her. She was ready. Ready to climax. First, he’d wanted to look at her, now he wanted to talk. Couldn’t he just get on with seducing her? Why did he have to make her wait? “What’s the point?”
“Ah.” He smiled then, a predatory grin that told her she was way out of her league. She had no idea where he was taking her. No idea what he was thinking. In fact, she wasn’t sure what she was thinking. She only knew that she’d never felt so sure that she could climax with just one tiny caress in the right place—a place Grey seemed in no rush to explore.
Instead he seemed intent in keeping her on this nerve-wracking edge of heat, where she could barely think, or breathe, or function. And the passion roaring through her frightened her almost as much as it exhilarated her. He seemed to have stripped away any thought of responsibility, of doing the right thing. And he’d left her with need. A need to have him kiss her, touch her, stroke her. Her every thought of him.
And then like a lightning bolt striking and searing, she understood the answer to her own question. Orgasm and release would be wonderful. The final destination mattered, but the journey could be just as important.
Grey wanted to focus on the journey.
With every other man, she’d rushed through each step of that first flush of romance and passion, anxious to see if that man was the right one. And when she’d discovered her other men hadn’t been special enough, or a good enough match, she’d moved on. Grey wasn’t about to let that happen. He was in no rush to reach the end of their journey together, instead he wanted to enjoy each kiss, each caress, each moment along the way.
His perceptiveness struck a chord in her, a response that rang true. She’d been reckless and uninhibited before, but she’d never given passion free rein to completely overrule her reliable and conscientious side. Understanding now caused her to square her shoulders and lift her chin in preparation to answer him. She sensed tonight was a test. A test she was determined to ace. The opportunity to explore a sexual relationship with Grey was one that might change her irrevocably, one that she instinctively understood would challenge her and perhaps push her out of her comfort zone, but one she must take—for herself.
“We’ll do this your way,” she agreed, her heart skipping as if she’d just agreed to step on a high wire with no safety net below. “I’ll learn to be patient.”
“Good.” His hands slipped under her skirt and removed her panties. He thrust them into his pocket, and she sensed he wouldn’t be returning them. Just the thought that he wanted an intimate article of her clothing caused her to part her legs as wide as her skirt allowed.
His strong fingers skimming her thighs had left her knees trembling and the rest of her eager for more of his touch. He was testing her again, testing her determination and patience. While she tried to tell herself her reaction was simply due to the lack of lovemaking in her life—she knew better. Being with Grey was special because he drew out each little nuance and carefully provoked her reactions to him.
“You know what I’d like to do?” he asked.
“What?”
“Skim my fingers up along the inside of your thighs and feel your heat.”
“Are you waiting for a written invitation?” she countered, somewhat shocked by her behavior and realizing that acquiring patience would take a diligent effort that might tax her to the limit. Yet, she sensed the rewards would prove spectacular, even if allowing him to take charge left her feeling more vulnerable than she’d ever felt be
fore.
He checked his watch. “This place is closing in five minutes, so we’re both going to wait.”
What? “Exactly how long are we going to wait?”
“We’ll make love soon. I promise.”
Disappointment, confusion and hurt flashed through her. And anger that he would leave her unsatisfied. The restaurant might be closing, but he could take her home or bring her to a hotel—but no. He intended to leave her clinging to hope. She hadn’t missed that he hadn’t given her a specific day or time. She yanked up her dress and struggled with the zipper.
Gently, he turned her around, his fingers warm and gentle on her shoulders, then he zipped up her dress. “Trust me. I’m worth the wait.”
“You damn well better be.” She tamped down her desire. She would not reveal to him her ragged emotions, so confused, so intense, she couldn’t sort them out.
But he knew. She could see it in the banked heat of his eyes when he kissed her. Only for a moment did she accept his soothing lips. Placing her palms on his chest, she shoved him back and held out her hand. “I want my panties.”
“No.”
No? “What, you need a trophy?” she snapped at him, annoyed she’d been right when she’d guessed he’d keep them, and now truly furious, her emotions swinging wildly to and fro as she dealt with both her vulnerability and her need to continue. She’d wanted so much more, more of his kisses, more of his touch, and dealing with the lack of an orgasm and a sense of completion had thrown her more than she wanted to admit to herself.
He shook his head. “I want you to think about me with every step you take.”
“Bastard.”
He grinned. “Don’t put on another pair.”
Now he was telling her how to dress? “Arrogant bastard.”
His grin widened. “Sleep naked tonight and don’t satisfy yourself.”
“Go to hell.” If Grey was determined to push her further than she’d believed she had the ability to cope with, he’d have to deal with her fury. That she hadn’t run out of here screaming proved to her that she was either an idiot or stronger than she’d known. And his taking her to the edge and back had opened up a flood-gate of emotions.