by Karina Bliss
Besides, she didn’t have any expertise in being a patient lover. Uninterested in the softer emotions, sex was strictly for fun and she was perfectly happy with a mutual gallop to an orgasm. Viv didn’t want to be held afterward, or reassured or cherished. And she didn’t expect—or encourage—lovers to make the experience any more meaningful than the enjoyment of an excellent meal or a good movie.
Still, by the time she’d drunk another half flute of champagne she was nearly brave enough to try. Nearly.
Ross leaned forward and threw a log on the fire, then adjusting the cushions and stretched full-length on the couch. “When you asked in the weight room if I’d ever imagined what it would be like?” He watched the dancing shadows on the ceiling. “You meant the sex.”
Viv snapped upright. “If I’d known—”
“Yeah,” he said. “I did imagine.”
A smart woman would stop him now. Viv remained silent.
“We’d leave the wedding separately to avoid gossip, even feigning surprise when we met in front of the hotel elevators. While we waited, we’d exchange small talk but as soon as the elevator door closed, I’d pull all the pins out of your hair—because I’d seen you tug at them through the service—and then I’d draw you close and kiss you.”
Viv held her breath.
“The kiss starts slow as we learn the shape of each other’s mouth, find the perfect fit, and then gets deeper.” His voice dropped to a husky timbre. A shiver went down her spine. “I push down the straps on your girly bridesmaid dress and peel the bodice down to your waist and take my time getting acquainted with your breasts.”
She struggled to breathe. “In the elevator?”
“You’d trust me to slide it up again before we reached our floor,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Anyway, you wouldn’t be worrying about that because you’d be focused on how good my mouth felt tonguing your nipples and wishing my hands would slip under the satin skirt and find skin.”
Her nipples hardened. She stirred restlessly on the chair.
“In your hotel room—” Ross put one hand behind his head, and his T-shirt revealed a tantalizing strip of iron-hard muscle “—we’d lose the dress and that cute little pink G-string I caught a flash of when you did your one-handed cartwheel.”
“I didn’t think the skirt would fall that far,” she confessed.
“And I’d get you naked, except for the stilettos, which make your legs even more incredible than they already are. We’d stop being polite with each other,” he said slowly, “and get a little wild.”
Viv stopped breathing again.
Ross turned his head, and his silver-gray eyes gleamed in the firelight. “You need a refill.”
It was so not what she expected him to say that Viv blinked. “What?” Dazed she looked at her empty glass. She’d drained it.
“Let me take care of that for you.” Swinging his legs off the couch, Ross picked up the champagne bottle and emptied the dregs into her glass, so close she could almost see a second hand on his five o’clock shadow above that lush, full mouth, so close she got a hit of his scent, pine and male. She made a helpless sound in her throat and swayed closer.
“This isn’t too difficult for you, is it?” he asked. “My therapist said talking without any pressure attached to performing might help.”
Viv sat back, digging her nails into the armchair. “No,” she rasped. Grateful for the loose sweatshirt that hid her nipples.
He stayed where he was, elbows resting on knees, within reach, as he gazed into the fire. She was helpless to look away.
“Where was I?”
She swallowed. “We were getting wild.”
“Oh, yeah.” His eyes darkened. “I imagined touching you, everywhere, and you touching me.” She could see them vividly in her mind’s eye.
“And maybe my fingers would be a little roughened through soldiering,” he said, “but I’d be gentle, taking my time.” She nearly whimpered. He smiled at some private thought. “So much time that you’d get impatient because you’re a ‘want it when I want it’ kind of girl, used to being in charge. But with me, you’d want it to last, want the slow, sweet, torturous buildup to penetration, want to wait until I whispered, ‘Part your legs for me.’ And when it happened, when I finally slid into you—”
Viv shot to her feet. “Ross, I can’t talk about this anymore,” she said in a strangled voice, unable to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’d love to be helpful but…”
If you keep talking like this I’ll spontaneously combust.
“…the kids get up so early and it’s late.”
“Viv.”
Reluctantly, she met his limpid gaze.
“Did I turn you on?”
“No, I mean, yes, but it’s my fault. I’m obviously insensitive or very sensitive depending on how you…” Her voice trailed off.
“I’m so sorry.” With a contrite expression, he pulled her onto his lap and she felt his body heat through her jeans and suffered another painful surge of lust. His breath tickled her cheek as he stroked a strand of hair off her face. “How can I fix it? A mug of cocoa, maybe?”
Viv shifted to get comfortable and suddenly registered why there wasn’t as much room as there should be. Instinctively her hand sought verification. He was hard, hot and definitely primed to go.
Ross looked into her eyes. His own gleamed. “It’s a miracle,” he said humbly.
“You bastard!” Viv shoved hard on his lap to stand up, but though he winced he didn’t release her.
“It was a present from your new sister-in-law, Jo. Long story.”
She shoved again—harder—and he let her go.
“You tortured me as a joke.”
“No. I used a white lie as foreplay.”
“A white lie’s not supposed to benefit you!”
“So you got nothing out of it?”
She crossed her arms. “Nothing.”
“Then come over here and I’ll make sure you do.”
She could hardly breathe when he looked at her like that, firelight shifting across his lethal smile. Dangerous. Too dangerous?
“We’re on different sides,” Viv hedged.
“Yeah.”
“Charlie…Merry…Dan…no one will like it.”
“Which is why we won’t tell them.”
She had a pang of disquiet. “Is this about paying Dan back, Ross?” she asked quietly.
“No,” he said. “It’s about how you can charm me with a one-handed cartwheel. You’ve been screwing with my concentration, my brain and my sleep for days and it’s got to stop. So I figure if we can’t defuse the bomb we’ll detonate it under controlled conditions.”
“But—”
“You know, if you keep throwing up objections, you’ll spoil the moment.”
“What moment?”
“This one,” he said, and smiled.
Viv started to say something flippant, then stopped. Something in Ross’s eyes made her feel exposed, even vulnerable.
He registered her sudden disquiet. “Or we can say goodnight.”
Viv wavered. Who was she kidding? She wanted him. She’d always wanted him. What harm was there if she was leaving? A small inner voice started answering that question and she shut it down. Like he said, don’t spoil the moment. “In my fantasy,” she said, “you weren’t wearing anything.”
Ross smiled and stood up, sweeping off his T-shirt in a graceful movement that lifted his ribs and tightened his washboard stomach.
Oh. Soldier.
Tossing it aside, he unzipped his jeans, let them fall, stepped free and kicked them aside. He stood there in his navy boxers. Viv’s knees went weak and she gripped the back of the chair for support. Hooking a thumb over the waistband of his shorts, he cruised in the direction of his bedroom. In the deep shadows away from the firelight, she caught a glimpse of prime male ass as the boxers hit the floor outside the door.
Viv sucked in a deep, deep breath. They were really, truly, finally going
to do this.
On unsteady legs she followed and found Ross propped on one elbow on top of the covers, the bedside lamp providing all the light a woman needed to find her way. “Yep,” she managed. “Just like my fantasy.”
His lips curved. “Then what happened?”
“I was naked, too.” With clumsy hands, she pulled off the sweatshirt, unfastened her jeans. As a costume designer she was comfortable with nudity, as a woman she was acutely conscious that she was revealing herself to a man whose body was his temple and who’d once dated a woman with abs. Her figure might be slim and toned from yoga but it wasn’t muscled and on a menu her breasts definitely fit under the appetizer category.
She’d never cared about this stuff before and, annoyed that she did now, Viv adopted a clichéd pose, hand on one out-thrust hip, and said, “Ta-daaa!”
“Oh, baby,” he said, “where’ve you been all my life?”
Viv forgot her pose and smiled.
And it was easy, so easy to walk to the bed, and lie beside him, not touching, but close enough to exchange body heat.
He leaned forward to kiss her but she drew back. “And then,” she whispered, “in my fantasy I touched you.” Lightly she ran her fingertips across his collarbone, down to a pec, circled around a nipple and watched it harden. “I followed my hand,” she said huskily, “with my mouth.”
His eyes darkened. Leaning forward, Viv pressed her lips to his warm flesh and dotted kisses over the sparse silky hair of his chest until she reached a nipple. Ross’s ribs swelled in a sharp inhale as her teeth closed gently over it. Viv lifted her head. “How’s my fantasy working for you so far?”
He made a sound between a groan and a laugh. “It’s working.”
Her fingers brushed across his ribs to navel and belly, tracing his scars with tenderness, following the arrow of hair to his groin. She closed a hand around him. “Definitely cured…and of course where the fingers go, the lips follow…”
Viv kissed her way down each rib, teased his navel then lay her cheek on his abs, mere inches from his erection, pulsing in her hand. “Ross?” she said, making sure he felt the heat of her breath.
“Viv?” he ground out.
One last gentle breath of air then she released her hold on his cock, and nipped her way up his body to smile into his dazed eyes. “Mine was a revenge fantasy—for making me wait eight years, you son of a bitch,” she said sweetly.
His gaze cleared. With a chuckle he hauled her on top of him and kissed her until she forgot payback fantasies. And Ross touched where he said he’d touch and the skin on his fingers was rough, but his caresses achingly gentle. And she cried out as she came under his exquisite exploratory touch, and then again around his heat, an orgasm that was savage and fast for both of them.
Ross rolled off her and they eyed each other sheepishly across the pillows, and then Viv started to laugh. The release of tension after all these years of wanting him was so breathtaking, so splendid, such a hilarious anticlimax after such an astonishing climax.
Her laughter ignited his and they ended up laughing so long and hard they had to use the sheet to wipe away tears. “In my defense,” Ross said when he could speak, “it has been more than eighteen months since I last did this.”
“You’ve been celibate that long?” Viv suffered a pang of unease because it gave their lovemaking more meaning than she was comfortable with. So the blonde in the photo on the mantel was Terri? The one he’d been dating at the time of the ambush and unceremoniously dumped, according to Dan. But Viv suddenly knew exactly why he’d cut her loose.
“How’s your ex-girlfriend doing on the triathlete circuit?” she asked casually.
“First place in the world champs last year,” he said proudly.
“I hope you take some credit for that,” she said, and felt him tense as he realized the trap she’d laid for him.
“If you want to make it as an elite athlete, you have to be single-minded,” he said testily. “All I did was free her to make the most of her opportunities.”
“Speaking of opportunities, I’ll give you ten minutes’ recovery and then we’re doing it again.”
Under her cheek, the muscles of his chest relaxed as Ross chuckled. The Iceman figured his reputation as a hard man was still intact, but Viv knew she’d never think of him the same again.
“I only need five,” he said.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
A SOUND WOKE Ross from a deep sleep. Rolling over he caught a pale gleam of skin in the corner of his bedroom before Viv shrugged on her sweatshirt, covering the tiny angel wing tattoo on her back. She already wore jeans.
“What time is it?” he murmured, and she jumped, then glanced over her shoulder.
“Sorry, I was trying not to wake you. I’m just heading to the sofa bed.”
They’d fallen asleep with the bedside lamp still on. He glanced at the clock beside it. Two in the morning. “We’ve got a few hours before the kids wake up. I’ll set the alarm for half past five if you’re worried.”
“It’s not the kids,” she said. “Actually, I have this kind of rule.”
Rule? Viv? Curious, Ross propped himself up on one arm. “Let’s hear it.”
“I don’t sleep over with guys I have sex with.”
“To stop them getting ideas?”
“Not that it’s an issue with you,” she hastened to add. “But it’s become sort of a habit of mine…like Salsa turning three times each way in his basket before he settles. I hope you don’t mind.”
If anything he was intrigued. Fluffing up the pillows, Ross cupped his hands behind his head. “And all your lovers happily go along with this?”
Viv frowned. “We’re not talking a cast of thousands.” Her gaze drifted to his biceps. “But, yes, they do. Normally, I make sure it’s covered off before we do the deed—you caught me by surprise.”
He was very glad to hear it. Ross patted the empty space beside him. “Best fill me in on how this works going forward. I wouldn’t want to inadvertently infringe on any of your regulations.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Hell, no.” Ross feigned hurt. “I’m all about structure and forward planning, you know that.”
“That’s true,” she acknowledged. “You are rather anal.”
She’d pay for that. Maybe Ross was a stickler for rules but he always established their value first. As she approached the bed, he moved over—ostensibly to give Viv more room and the sheet fell to his hips. Decent only if you didn’t look.
Viv dragged her gaze to his face.
“So,” he prompted. “Your rules.”
She perched on the bed. “The reason I broke it off with Jean Paul was because he didn’t understand that I need my freedom.”
The Frenchman who needed his head read for getting involved with the woman Ross had just taken to bed and potentially risked his relationship with Charlie for. The situation stopped being quite so funny.
“I generally emphasize that any relationship with me is transitory,” she explained. “The truth is, I’m not all that hot on living up to people’s expectations, so by spelling that out at the start, no one gets hurt.”
“I’ve already learned to have no expectations where you’re concerned,” he said. “You only confound them.”
She gave him a femme fatale smile, the one irresistibly mixed with mischief. “Good.”
Reaching out a hand, Ross traced that smile. “So what do you usually do the morning after?”
“I’m not there the morning after,” she reminded him.
“Then let me tell you what I would do if a woman stayed over. I’d make her breakfast…because she’d need her strength built up and the only reason you’re smiling now is because we didn’t get to round two yet because we both fell asleep.”
He slid a hand under her sweatshirt, stroked it over the swell of her breast and felt the nipple peak. “Of course, you could leave before breakfast but I don’t think Attilla and Harry or
Salsa would be too happy about that. And I did promise to take the kids to see the gannet colony before you went home, but I’m sure they’ll understand that the Cinderella rules come first.”
He moved his hand to her other breast, watching her gaze become unfocused. “Except—darn it—in the afternoon I’ve been suckered into helping with Tilly’s soccer training, but other than that I’ll be sure to keep a respectful distance.”
Viv pressed against his hand. He loved her sexual confidence. “Okay, in this context maybe the rules sound a little ridiculous,” she conceded, her own fingers starting to explore. “But you must appreciate the intent. You’ve spent the last week nagging me to be careful.”
Ross nuzzled her neck, breathing her in. “You being careful,” he said, “is a major turn-on.” Usually he was the one with the exit strategy. “And I completely respect your autonomy, but right now I’m also extremely interested in getting you naked again.”
She shivered under his kisses, pushing him onto his back. Her jeans rasped deliciously against his cock as she straddled him. Her eyes were dark, her hair tumbled around the faded sweatshirt and under it her nipples were tight peaks in his palm. Ross experienced a moment of disquiet. He felt like a snowman feeling the first thaw of spring, surely this kind of heat didn’t bode well.
He caught Viv’s hips and stilled her sensuous movements. “Maybe you should be passing on some of your rules for self-restraint to your twin,” he said. “Did you know she’s been having phone sex with her husband? Charlie told me.”
“I suspected as much when I dropped him off at the airport this morning. I only just stopped him from kissing me.”
Ross didn’t like that; didn’t like his brother ogling her.
Viv sobered. “Ross, after what happened today, I’m going to try and talk Merry into telling Charlie the truth. To be honest, I’ve been having second thoughts since Charlie asked for a reconciliation. I ignored them because Merry was so desperate to keep the swap going and,” she pulled a face, “I’m a sucker for my sister’s approval. But also because I couldn’t see a way of fixing this without someone getting hurt.”
