Playing with Fire

by Graziano, Renee

  His voice was low and commanding. “Reign, come here. You’re driving me crazy on purpose and I think it’s over.”

  All her life she’d dealt with dominant men and she knew that tone well. Independence was important to her, but picking her battles was always wise. It didn’t hurt that she was just as interested as he was in what was going to happen next, and he was dead serious. If she didn’t comply, he was coming to get her, so she might as well keep as much control over the situation as possible.

  She approached the bed. “You have something specific in mind?”

  “Those beautiful tits. My mouth.”

  “That’s pretty specific.”

  “Bring them over and I’ll be a happy man.”

  Reign crawled on top of him. “I like this position.”

  As she straddled his hips, his fingers lightly stroked first her hips and then the sensitive undersides of her breasts while she lightly rubbed her sex against his erection. His heavy-lidded eyes held her gaze. “Yeah. I like it too.”

  Reign knew he could feel she was really wet and slick. “I should take my shoes off. They might tear the sheets.”

  “No way.” He guided her up and down his hard length, encouraging the motion. “I like the shoes and I can afford new sheets.”

  “Fantasy is fine, but—”

  “Leave them on.”

  “Yes, sir.” Reign grinned and ran the tip of her heel up his calf. It had to hurt at least a little.

  “I need to be inside you.” He abruptly rolled her over, his breath warm against her lips, a lock of dark hair over his forehead. “I’m talking you have no idea how bad I need to be inside you.”

  “Go for it,” she challenged because she was pretty on the edge as well. “Fuck me.”

  Instead he kissed her, long but hard and fairly graphic about what he wanted. His tongue delved deep and then her knees were apart and he entered her so abruptly she caught her breath.

  Immediately he lifted his head, concern in those pure blue eyes. “Okay? Did I hurt you?”

  There was no doubt she was playing fast and loose with a man without rules, but he seemed at least intent on keeping the illusion going so she didn’t need to be afraid of him.

  “We’re good.” She nipped at his shoulder, maybe even drawing a little blood from the salty taste. “Don’t stop now.”

  “I’m not sure I could.” He sounded like he meant it even as he loomed over her, his mouth teasing her throat.

  It was a disturbing thought that his intellect intrigued her, his open sensual appeal aside. She normally considered herself a very self-aware person. With her background, she needed to be. Nick Fattelli broke quite a few of her rules.

  He began to move, thrusting in and out, the penetration urgent and possessive, and Reign moved with him, their bodies in an instinctive carnal rhythm that was so natural even in the haze of pleasure she noticed how well they matched each other.

  He was dangerous in more than one way. Not just to her person, but to her peace of mind.

  Deadly, even.

  How could she possibly feel safe?

  “Babe.” His lips touched hers as he withdrew and slid in again. “God, it’s good.”

  It was. Reign was getting close, the tension moving her higher and higher. Her thighs tightened around his hips. She pulled him closer. “Kiss me again.”

  He did, and she kissed him back, her nails raking his shoulders as it started to happen, her eyes closing as the pleasure crested and she sank beneath the tidal wave. As she came he reacted, his cry just strangled enough she registered it even though she was lost, floating, her body trembling. Her breath was caught somewhere in her throat.

  Eventually, she drifted back into the moment and realized he was moving his fingers in an idle pattern on her inner thigh, a slight smile on his face. He asked, “Hi? You with me again?”

  “That was—”

  “Incredible?” He licked her right nipple. “I agree.” Poised over her, he was all male grace and power, and though she knew he’d climaxed because she’d felt the powerful pulse of his release, he was still impressively rigid.

  “I was going to say adequate.” There was a laugh in her voice.

  “You pushing me? Me?”

  She was. And it was unwise, but still exciting, and maybe she should retreat rather than advance.

  Actually she’d never been all that good at backing off.

  “We’ve only been to bed twice.”

  “But had sex how many times?”

  He had a point. Reign laughed. “Okay, you win there, Nicky.”

  His fingers touched her hair and then her face, before trailing lower, and his voice was serious. “I really think you’re beautiful.”

  “I’ve been told that before.”

  “How often?”

  He looked pretty cute jealous. She couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t keep a log or anything. And believe it or not, I don’t sleep around. I’ve been burned once. Never again.”

  “What does that mean? Anyone ever hurt you? I’ll kill him.”

  It was so much part of the world she lived in that she believed him. “No.” She pressed her fingers to his mouth. “Not the way you mean. Not physically. My ex-husband was not the man I thought he was, but I’m over it—and him. That bastard will probably screw up and end up dead, but he is my son’s father and I want no part of what happens to him, all right? Let him fuck up his own life, but I’m not interested in explaining his mistakes to my child. My father would have taken care of it a long time ago but I asked him to back off. Ray was my problem.”

  “Are you extracting some sort of assurance from me?”

  “If I did, would you honor it?”

  His brows shot up. “Are you asking me if you can rely on my word? Reign, if there is anything on this planet that you can count on, it is that if I give you my word, I’ll follow through. However, if I don’t promise, there’s a reason and all bets are off.”

  She rubbed his bare chest and shifted so her thigh draped suggestively over his. “I believe that. But I’m more interested in earthy pursuits than revenge right now.”

  “You aren’t scared?”

  She stopped, lashes dropping, and rested her forehead on his shoulder. “I’m terrified. What the fuck do you think?”

  * * *

  Her body was like some sort of drug. Nick knew he’d never been so hungry for a woman before, but then again, it wasn’t just the sex.

  Problem one.

  It was dark and the air-conditioning hummed in the background. The bed was soft, the city lights giving them a gentle glow behind the shade at the big window, and he stroked her arm in long, slow motions with his hand.

  He wanted her again, and she rested against him in a languid pose of submission, but he knew if he tried to take anything before she was ready, he’d have an argument on his hands.

  Problem two.

  “Talk to me about it.”

  “No.”

  “Reign, you know you have to.”

  “No.”

  “You smell like flowers.” He licked her earlobe.

  “That’s shampoo.” She laughed, but pushed him away with a light shove he ignored. “Give me a minute.”

  “I think you’d go again right now.” He curved her into him, positioning their bodies, his arms bringing her closer. “But instead talk to me?”

  “I don’t know what to say. I can’t think of a single reason that man was in my bedroom. Not one.”

  He could. It bothered him.

  He needed to think, and this was just not the time, not when his whole body was on fire. “We’ll think about it later. Agreed?”

  “Are you always hard?” She was laughing, but when he entered her she went quiet and sighed and her arms encircled his neck. Her breasts were taut and her nipples erect. “Nicky.”

  “Feels good?”

  “You tell me.”

  If he was inclined to be honest—and he wasn’t—he might have mentioned that th
is was more his speed, as he moved inside her gently and easily, since they’d already made love twice.

  Problem three.

  Heaven on earth took on a new meaning. He really liked sex. Like really, really liked it. But she was exceptional. Just the light touch of her palms on his back turned him on.

  He didn’t want exceptional. He wanted the typical sexual encounter that was just a blip on his screen. It made things easier.

  In short, it felt too good.

  “You like me here.” He pushed deep on purpose.

  “Pretty much.” She arched in response. “Don’t stop now.”

  “Jesus, Reign.” He was starting, on such short acquaintance, to believe that to be true.

  “At the moment, I’m pretty sure you feel that way. You just want to fuck me.”

  And outspoken. “I am fucking you.”

  “See?” Long dark lashes lowered over her eyes. “Uhm. And I like it.”

  Problem four.

  He found her honesty and her sense of humor almost as appealing as her beauty, and that was saying something. “I’m not just fucking you.”

  Oh hell, not a good admission.

  Even as he thought about amending that declaration, to his relief, Reign said, “If you make this complicated, I’ll never speak to you again.”

  Great, another problem. Was this problem five? He could tell she didn’t want him interfering in her life.

  “Is that an ultimatum?” His voice was raspy, but he asked anyway.

  “I know what you are.… I can’t think about this too much.”

  “What am I?” He stopped. It took some self-control, but he went still, inside her but not moving, looking into those amazing emerald eyes as they opened in question at the pause.

  “The single worst decision I could make is if I respond to that question. Don’t stop.”

  “Reign—”

  “I’m serious, Nicky.”

  It wasn’t as if he didn’t completely understand, even though he was a man. There was a vulnerability to her slender form, and the implicit trust she gave just letting him even touch her, that moved him.

  He finished it with long measured strokes, taking them both where they wanted to go, his hands sliding beneath her to lift her into each heated thrust. Reign wasn’t shy about being vocal in her enjoyment, and his own climax was a shattering event that left him sheened with sweat and confirmed his heart was in good shape anyway.

  Afterward there was nothing but measured breathing as they recovered, sprawled across the sheets.

  I know what you are.…

  Still entwined intimately, he wondered if he should withdraw, but decided fuck that. His cock liked it exactly where it was. He did give her the courtesy of lifting his weight off, but even on his elbows those spectacular breasts pressed his chest. “What am I?”

  “Persistent, apparently.” She sounded breathless.

  “Guilty as charged. Just tell me what you meant.”

  Any other woman might have equivocated, but not Reign.

  She looked up at him and brushed his hair back. “Oh, fuck, you aren’t going to back off, are you? My entire life my father has warned me about men like you.”

  “My entire life, my mother has warned me about women like you.” He kissed her right breast, savoring the supple fullness of her nipple. “Be careful of the ones who wear heels and nothing else.”

  “That was your idea.”

  * * *

  She liked it when he licked the underside of her breast. Definitely. It was sublime.…

  “Stop that. I’m serious.” She lightly slapped his back and laughed.

  “Hey, I like that, hit me again.” He caught her wrists. “I need a good spanking.”

  “Nicky.”

  “Reign.” He kissed her and pressed her to the pillows holding her arms above her head. Then he told her without loosening his grip, “This isn’t just about how much I like you in bed. I think you are the most striking woman I have ever met, and it isn’t just your looks. You have … a heart.”

  “How could you possibly know me well enough—”

  “Shit, I know. Stay the night?”

  “I’ve slept here before.”

  “That was different. I insisted.” He moved a little, just adjusting their position. “I’m very good at not letting other people make choices, because it all has to be done so fast usually, but not all of life has to be at lightning speed. I want it to be your choice tonight.”

  It was sobering to realize that was about as far out on a limb as he’d ever gone for a woman. Ever. Not that he’d never discussed it with his other lovers, but he certainly had not issued that humble invitation. Sex had been the goal, not sharing his bed.

  Front and center, he wanted her to stay.

  “Sleep with me?” Never in his life had he asked in that tone. Not just with my dick but with me.

  He would never say it out loud, but he felt it, as the request was held there suspended between them.

  Reign touched his face. “I’d love to, but you have to promise I’ll regret it in the morning.”

  It eased the moment.

  There was a reason he really was attracted to this woman. He kissed her again before he answered. “Oh yeah, I’ll be very bad. Maybe you should take a moment and write up a list of what you won’t do.”

  “Now you’re making it an invitation I can’t refuse.”

  “I could just tie you up and you’d have no choice.”

  “Uhm.” She wriggled closer. “A little bondage sounds promising. What else? Torture me by withholding sex?”

  “I doubt that.” He didn’t genuinely smile often, but he did then.

  Her guard slipped for just a moment. “I wish I didn’t like you.”

  “You know, I was just thinking the same thing about you.”

  Chapter

  EIGHT

  The yacht wasn’t his preference, but Salvatore did join in now and again, just to please his mother.

  It was a lovely vessel. Sleek, expensive, and fast.

  Kind of, he thought irreverently, like his mother. She wouldn’t like the comparison, but it slipped into his mind just the same. His parents had an understanding about fidelity that they seemed comfortable with, but it would never be part of his marriage.

  If he ever got married. Not that long ago he’d been out shopping for rings, but maybe, he’d decided in retrospect, he’d been seeing the dream through so he could face the reality.

  Reign wasn’t ever going to marry him.

  “Thanks,” he said to one of the waiters as he accepted some champagne. “Don’t be a stranger.” The wind tickled his hair and smelled a lot like the bay, with just a hint of maybe some ocean out there. Nice moon, lovely women, good booze … he was fairly miserable.

  Go figure.

  “Yes, sir.” The young man left with a slight smile.

  Yeah, go ahead and laugh.… I’d find it funny, too, but it’s my life.…

  “Sal.”

  He turned, flute in hand. The woman who joined him was young and very beautiful. She wore a bathing suit, was barefoot, and her fair hair was windblown. He said pleasantly, “Carmen.”

  “I asked if you were coming.” She smiled over the rim of her glass. A cosmopolitan, if he had to guess. If he remembered correctly, she liked them with vanilla vodka and cranberry juice, but then again, it had been a while.

  Still, she looked great. Flat stomach, store-bought tits, but … almost every single woman on the boat had those if he was a judge of the crowd, and his problem had always been complexity. He never wanted just an easy lay.

  Carmen Dolce’s interest involved a horizontal surface. He’d known that for years now. Had he wanted to accept the offer, he might now be the son-in-law of a very influential man.

  “My mother’s parties aren’t always my favorite.” Sal’s comment was offhand.

  Carmen took a sip—a very big sip—from her glass. Her blond hair brushed her breasts. If everything was different, h
e might have gotten sucked into the vortex. Maybe he should be grateful to Reign for rejecting him. She stared at him. “Why not?”

  Now see, this was why they hadn’t communicated all that well in the past. He said, “It seems to always be a bunch of people with too much time on their hands and too much money, all getting drunk together.”

  “I seem to notice you’re drinking.” Carmen gestured with her glass and some of the liquid inside splashed on her bare toes, which made her give a small squeal of laughter.

  “Yeah,” he agreed dryly. “Self-preservation. Who can blame me?”

  Then he saw her. Just a casual movement out of the corner of his eye, but he realized who it was and for a moment froze with his drink halfway to his mouth, as he turned to look at a group of people gathered on the deck.

  Reign was on his parents’ boat?

  No way.

  She looked beautiful too, in some sort of sarong-style dress she’d probably designed herself, the tropical colors complementing her long, sleek dark hair, and the breeze rippling the fabric against her body, accentuating those eye-catching curves.

  But really, as much as he appreciated the view, what the hell was she doing there? Considering the enmity between their families, it seemed like a very unusual choice for her to make, and even more perplexing that his mother had invited her.

  “Who are you staring at?” Carmen followed his gaze and narrowed her eyes. “Oh yeah. I think I’m getting it. I take it you know Reign Grazi.”

  Maybe Carmen was more intelligent than he gave her credit for. Well, she probably was, since he didn’t give her much credit at all and she still managed somehow to get into Columbia. Of course, that could have been due to her influential father. Sal murmured in confirmation, “I do know Reign.”

  Biblically, he could have added, but that wasn’t anyone’s business besides theirs. “Our families just don’t get along too well, so I was startled to see her here.”

  “Know her?” Even Carmen lifted her perfectly plucked brows. “That’s putting it mildly. I think she came with the tall, dark-haired guy. He’s not exactly new in town, but he’s not from right here either. Word has it Chicago. Nick something. He’s pretty cute.”