Lucky 7 Bad Boys Contemporary Romance Boxed Set

by Pineiro, Charity

  “Yeah. Just like we always wanted.”

  Something in his voice made her step back. Mixed in with his excitement was something akin to nerves. Even doubt. “Is something wrong?”

  He laughed nervously. “Other than the fact I'm sometimes prone to motion sickness? Nah. I've been assured the Seven Seas ships have the best stabilizers in the business.”

  She moved back to her chair and sat down. “So when does this contract start?”

  “We have to get it first, but then it's supposed to start immediately.”

  She waved her hand, indicating it was practically a done deal. “They'll recognize your talent when they see it,” she said brightly. “But what about the rest of your tour?”

  “We have one more gig lined up in Vegas, and then we'd planned to take some time off. Our availability is a huge factor in our favor. Their cruises last from seven to twenty-one nights, depending on the itinerary.”

  “Wow. And you'd be performing every night?”

  “That's the plan.” He shrugged. “There's one sticking point. They want an act for their family show, too. I'm not sure we can give them that.”

  “Why not?”

  “The act's taken a turn since you last saw it. To compete with others, we've upped the adult nature of our shows.”

  She'd been about to take a bite of her salad, but her fork froze in front of her face. “Adult nature?” she echoed.

  “Nothing vulgar,” he said quickly. “Skimpy outfits. Sexual humor.” His voice remained steady, but a slight blush had risen on his cheeks.

  “Just how skimpy are the outfits?” she asked suspiciously.

  “There's one or two tricks where the assistant goes topless.”

  Her fork dropped to her plate. “Seriously?” she squeaked.

  “Yeah.”

  “But that's…that's objectifying, don't you think?”

  “There's nothing objectifying about nudity.” His lips pressed together. “It's entertainment.”

  “I beg your pardon, but if the nudity is just for titillation, which is what you're talking about, then it objectifies the woman who is nude. All she becomes is a pair of tits.”

  “So I take it you don't approve.”

  “I-I—” Aside from her gut reaction, she couldn't say with certainty whether she did or not. She'd never given it much thought. Plus, she couldn't say for sure whether it was the topless assistants she really objected to, or if it was the idea of them prancing around in front of Rhys one night after the other. “Whether I approve or not is irrelevant. It's not my act. I guess I just thought your act was good the way it was.”

  “It was good, but it wasn't taking us where we wanted to go.”

  “To the top,” she verified.

  “Yeah.”

  Melina nodded. It looked like things were lining up for the Dalton family. Although she was happy for them, she couldn't quite picture Rhys living on a cruise ship. Not for very long. But then again, what did she know? After several attempts at eating, she pushed her plate away, no longer having to pretend her stomach hurt.

  “Melina, maybe this isn't the best time to ask, but I want to know if—”

  “I have to go,” she said abruptly.

  Rhys's mouth snapped shut. He frowned. “What?”

  She raised a shaky hand to her forehead. “I guess I'm feeling worse than I thought. I'd like you to go home now.”

  “You mean back to the cabin?”

  “No. I mean back to Sacramento.”

  “But the weekend's not over. What about—”

  She shook her head. “No worries. You're a genius. I didn't need to learn about technique, I just needed to get my confidence up and be willing to try different things. You made me realize that, and I'll always, always appreciate it. But I think I can take it from here.”

  He stared at her, his face darkening with something close to anger. “What if I don't want you to go home?”

  Her heart began to race. “What do you mean?”

  Leaning over, he took her hands in his. “I mean, I've really enjoyed our time together.”

  “I have to. I suppose Max's plan worked, after all.” It had worked too well.

  “Come to Reno with me.”

  Melina blinked. “What?”

  “I know you're supposed to work, but I was hoping you could take some time off.”

  Whoa. The world seemed to be spinning out of control. He didn't want their time to end either? “Wouldn't I just get in the way?”

  “I'd be busy. I have to set up for the show and do rehearsals, but you could hang out. See what it's like. You could visit with Mom and Dad. Then, whenever I could get away…”

  She cocked a brow. “What?”

  He wiggled his brows up and down, reminding her so much of Max when he was being naughty. “We could get off.”

  She flushed, not in embarrassment but arousal.

  “That certainly sounds tempting.” But she'd only be putting off their separation, wouldn't she? And it wouldn't be like it was here. She wouldn't have Rhys's undivided attention. That could be a good thing, but it could also be bad. She adored his parents. They never failed to welcome her in and make her feel a part of the family. Which would make having to leave all the harder. She just couldn't see spending more time with Rhys, knowing pain would once again be waiting for her. So while her heart was screaming, yes, yes, yes, she forced herself to say, “I appreciate the offer, but I'm going to have to say no. I need to get back home and to my lab.”

  He sat back, and for a moment she thought she saw real distress in his eyes. Then he shrugged. “You're right. What was I thinking? There's way too much to do, getting ready for Seven Seas and all. I should probably put all my focus into that.”

  “Sure. It's your dream come true, after all.”

  “Yeah,” he whispered.

  He put down his napkin, took several bills out of his wallet, and threw them on the table. “You ready to go?”

  Chapter Ten

  Dalton's Magic Rule #11: Use your brain and heart as much as your hands.

  Back at Rhys's cabin, Melina packed up her things while Rhys put away the mantel and tidied up the house. They'd barely spoken on the drive back from the restaurant, and every time she looked at him she had to force herself not to say, “I changed my mind. Of course I'll go to Reno with you.” This was for the best, she told herself for the thousandth time. This weekend was about sexual empowerment, not emotional suicide, and she was lucky Rhys had been part of it.

  “You almost ready?”

  She whirled around at the sound of Rhys's voice. He stood in the doorway, one hand gripping the header and the other tucked behind his back. She arched a brow. “Is this another pop quiz?”

  When he smiled—a genuine smile that showed off his adorable dimple—the relief was disorienting. She hated when things were tense between them, but if he could smile, maybe that meant everything would be okay.

  “I suppose in a way it is,” he confessed. “I brought your gift with me, but in all the confusion, I don't think I ever wished you a happy birthday.”

  Playing along, she pretended to think about it. “No. I don't think you did.”

  “I didn't think so.” He stepped into the room. “So are you ready for the question?”

  She nodded.

  “What's your favorite bug?”

  He had to be kidding. “Seriously? What kind of question is that? You already know—”

  “Will you just play along?” he gritted out in a long-suffering voice.

  “Okay, okay.” She took a deep breath. “My favorite bug…” She paused dramatically. “Is the ladybug.”

  “And why is it your favorite bug?”

  “Because of its polka dots,” she groaned, remembering the day she'd complained about her mother wanting her to wear a polka dot dress. “But dots on a bug are far different than on a dress. Especially when you're fourteen and fat.”

  He glared at her. “You weren't fat. You were just…well-cu
shioned.”

  She snorted, even though Rhys, unlike Brian, made it sound like a compliment.

  “Anyway, maybe you'll feel different about this.”

  He brought his arm around and held out a small box wrapped in simple ivory paper. “Happy birthday, Ladybug.”

  She took the box with trembling fingers and tried to blink back her tears. She didn't quite succeed. One trailed down her cheek, and he swiped it away with his thumb. He didn't question her tears, and she didn't explain them.

  Sitting on the bed, she carefully removed the paper and lifted the lid off the box. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw what was inside. A small laugh burst out of her. “It's a bikini.”

  He sat down next to her, his expression watchful, as if he wasn't sure whether she liked it. “Yeah. I saw it when I was in France. The white one you have is a whole lot more daring, but this one…” He shrugged. “I don't know. It just reminded me of you.”

  She lifted the two pieces out of the box. The material was black, sprinkled with red polka dots. They weren't showy and neither was the cut of the bikini. Unlike the one she'd bought, this one would cover her where she wanted to be covered, yet it was also stylish. Hip. Sexy.

  She stroked the fabric as she looked at him. “This is how you see me?”

  He frowned a little. “Before I answer, do you like it?”

  Happiness swelled within her. Before she could think twice about it, she lunged at him, knocking him back onto the bed even as she squeezed him. “I love it. Thank you.”

  She kissed him soundly on the mouth, her laughter slowly dying as he cupped her face and brought her lips back to his. He tilted her head to find the right angle, teasing her lips open for his hungry kisses. When he pulled back a little, he smoothed her hair out of her eyes and helped her sit up. “You're as sexy as you're willing to let yourself be. Always remember that, Melina.”

  He stood and shoved his hands in his pocket. “I'll finish packing and then we can go. Can you give me ten minutes?”

  “No,” she said abruptly.

  He froze and looked over his shoulder at her. “Excuse me?”

  Getting quickly to her feet, she set the box with Rhys's gift on the bedroom dresser and placed her hands on her hips. “The bikini's wonderful, but it's not going to make me forget what you promised me yesterday. Or was that just a bunch of talk and no action?”

  He was clearly flummoxed by her words as well as her aggressive attitude. “I'm not sure what you're—”

  “You said I could tie you up, remember? Granted, I was tired yesterday, but I'm feeling extremely well rested now.”

  Crossing his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorjamb. “What about your stomachache?”

  “Gone,” she said blithely.

  “So you want to…” He stared pointedly at the four-poster bed behind her.

  “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to get me something to tie you up with?”

  “Well, all right, then.” He straightened, his lids heavy and intense. “I've got exactly what you need.”

  * * *

  Sitting on Rhys's big bed, Melina tried to give off a carefree, sexy vibe while Rhys retrieved “what she needed” from his magic case. Every thirty seconds, doubt would creep in on her and she'd force herself to look at the bikini, still sitting on the dresser in its gift box. Forget what happened later. She was only going to think about today. Here and now. She and Rhys. And when she wore that bikini to the beach—and she would wear it—she would think of him and smile and know that for a short time, she'd had something she never thought she'd have.

  Passion. Mutual passion. Even if it didn't come with unicorns and flying dragons, she knew how precious it was now. And she was never going to settle for anything less again.

  “I'm baaaaack,” Rhys drawled from the doorway, and she sat up. She laughed when she saw rainbows of color fluttering in the air. In each of his hands, he held drapes of silk. Purple and green. Pink and blue.

  “They look absolutely decadent,” she said.

  “Wait until you feel them against your skin.”

  “Nice try. But I want them against your skin. Well, at least some of your skin, anyway.”

  “And the rest of me?”

  A jolt of wickedness shot through her, and she knew it showed on her face when he sucked in a breath. “Let's just say I'll do my very best to make sure not a single inch of you feels neglected.”

  * * *

  Rhys had been sexually active for fifteen years, and in that time he'd often heard talk of pleasure so intense you actually thought you could die from it. He'd never actually experienced it himself. Not until now.

  Not until Melina.

  Something had changed in her, Rhys thought. He'd seen the insecurity on her face. Had suspected she was about to back off before he'd waved the scarves at her. But whatever doubts she'd had were gone. She seemed determined to touch all of him, taste all of him, drive him mad with desire—and she was doing one hell of a job.

  She'd tied his hands and feet to the bed with secure knots that he could still manage to escape, but escape was the last thing he was thinking of. Starting at his feet and working her way up, she'd proved herself to be a woman of her word. Not a single inch of his body had been neglected so far. She'd even discovered an area behind his knee that was an erogenous zone. As she kissed his inner thigh, his cock jerked in anticipation, and he groaned with pleasure when he actually felt sperm well out, undeniable evidence that he was barely hanging on to his control. She smiled when she saw the drop of cum crown his cockhead. “Mmm,” she breathed. “Yummy.”

  “Oh, God,” he gasped a second before her mouth slid over him like a hot, slick vice. The lash of her tongue against his slit made his hips arch, and he marveled that he didn't blow the second she started suckling him. The wet noise of her mouth combined with her persistent hums of pleasure. He arched his hips, trying to feed her more of himself, but she focused her attention just on the tip. He strained against the scarves. “Deeper. Take more of me. Please.”

  She glanced at him from beneath her lashes and instead of taking him deeper, she slowly eased her mouth off him completely. He barely held back his whimper of distress. “Where do you want to be, Rhys? Deeper in my mouth? Or deeper someplace else?”

  His eyes widened slightly at her words. At the pure sexual confidence that dripped off them. Tying him down was obviously working for her. And it sure as hell worked for him. “How about we start with your mouth and explore the options from there?”

  With a laugh, she bent to place her mouth on him again, but he snapped, “No.”

  Her confused gaze jerked to his.

  Part of him thought he was a fool. How could he deprive himself of even one second of her mouth on him?

  But the other part of him was picturing something so magnificent, he couldn't let it go. “Remember what I said before? I'm not just going to lie here and let you pleasure me, Melina.”

  Now it was her eyes that widened. She pursed her lips as she ran her gaze over his body. “From the looks of things, I don't think you have any choice in the matter.”

  Damn, he liked her feisty. “You're wrong,” he said calmly.

  With a challenging arch of one brow, she bent until her breath tickled his cock. Then she took him. Deeply. She worked her mouth over him in every way imaginable. Shallow and deep. Fast and slow. Tenderly and with a wild aggression that allowed him to feel the edge of her teeth against his sensitive shaft and the bite of her nails against his balls. He didn't even try to hold back his moans of pleasure. His throat was actually sore by the time she backed off, her lips red and chapped, her eyes dilated with her own desire.

  “Now what was it you were saying about being wrong?”

  He had to suck in several breaths before he could speak. “Just biding…my time, baby.”

  “Is that right?” She gripped him tightly and stroked him. He knew he was about thirty seconds from shooting his load all over he
r hand.

  “That's right,” he said, struggling to sound in control. “Because I can see your pussy juice glistening on your thighs. And I'm going to lick it up even as you take my cock in your mouth again. You ever do the sixty-nine, Melina?”

  He wasn't surprised when she licked her lips and shook her head. “It never looked particularly appealing to me.”

  “That's something else you need a lesson on. Now put yourself over me. I've worked up quite an appetite in the past few minutes.”

  She hesitated and released him. “Rhys, why don't I—”

  “Now, Melina,” he said firmly. He knew why most women didn't like doing the sixty-nine. It exposed them. Made them feel unsure of themselves. Awkward. He wanted everything Melina was. The confidence and the insecurity. The grace and the awkwardness. But there'd be no hiding for her, just like there'd be no hiding for him. “I want you against me. Over me. On my tongue. And it's what you want, too, isn't it?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “Then give us what we both want, baby.”

  Moving slowly, she got in position. He waited until she seemed comfortable. Until she tentatively took him inside her mouth again. Until she started to lose herself in the act of pleasing him.

  Then, raising his head, he buried his face in her sweet muskiness. Lapping gently, he swiped through the drenched folds left vulnerable by her recent waxing. Deliberately, he stayed away from the hard knot that crested her core until she was pushing herself down on him and begging. He gave her what she wanted, manipulating her clit with his tongue and teeth until she was sobbing. At the same time, her mouth tightened on his cock as she tried to draw the cum out of his balls.

  His body tightened when the pleasure came rushing at him. Before he exploded, he managed to plunge his tongue inside her, detonating her own release so it coincided perfectly with his. In that instance, his entire world became Melina. He shouted her name even as she shouted his.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dalton's Magic Rule #12: When all else fails, pull out the rabbit.