He gave her a suspicious look. “Are you drunk?”
“Probably not nearly enough.” Her voice sounded clear, but her words made him uncertain.
“Well, I’m not playing, and neither are any of you.” He glared around at the others in the group as he took Lydia’s arm and half helped, half lifted her off the table. “You’re not messing up my brother’s wedding day this way. And Phil, were you even invited?”
“I figured my invitation got lost in the mail.” Phil grinned toothily.
Tony understood. Dear God, there but for your grace… He stopped himself. “Get out. Quietly. And the rest of you should call it a night, too, probably.” He gave them all a scathing glare then turned away, pulling Lydia along with him. “Stupid sons of bitches. And what the hell, Lydia? I thought you had better sense.”
They were in the lobby by this point and she yanked her arm away from his grasp, turning to glare at him. “What’s your damage? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was just a little fun.”
“A little fun that looked like it was well on its way to being a gang rape.”
“It was no such thing. You’re projecting.” She glared at him, her hands on her hips.
“Projecting what? Disgust?” He faced her.
Just then, a door opened to the side and a couple came out. Lydia’s head swiveled to watch them and they both ducked, half hiding their faces. Tony frowned at the cloakroom door as it swung closed behind them. “You’re joking.”
She chortled. “Nope. Looks like they were having a little fun, too. C’mon.”
“What?” He held back as she grabbed his hand and started that way.
“Come on.” She tugged at his hand. “If they’ve just come out, it’s available. Let’s go.” She grinned, waggling her eyebrows at him. “I’ll show you what you were projecting. You can’t tell me you don’t want to.”
Her words brought on a surge of unexpected desire. “Jesus.” He hesitated a second more. Why the hell am I hesitating? He let her pull him in the door and shut it behind him.
The cloakroom was large and airy, far from the stuffy confines he’d expected. No cloaks or coats or even sweaters hung on the long pole that stretched from one end of the room to the other. A few mittens and scarves and other articles of clothing littered the countertop. Of course, there were no cloaks, Tony reminded himself. No one had cloaks in Vegas. “Why the hell does this place have a cloakroom?”
She reached onto the shelf and pulled down a silk scarf, probably long forgotten. “For this.” She turned, twirling the scarf in her fingers, winding it into a rope. “I challenged you earlier.”
“That was a challenge? I thought you were just flirting with me.” He let her loop the scarf around his neck and pull him closer. “You’re drunk.”
“Not really. Not so much I don’t know what I’m doing, anyway.” She met his gaze. “Kiss me, Tony. I dare you.”
Unable to resist the temptation, he tasted her lips. The contact sent a jolt through him he hadn’t expected, however, and he wanted more. He turned his head a little without breaking the contact and her mouth opened to him, warm and wet, welcoming his tongue with her own. He lifted her onto the counter and she wound her legs around his waist, her hips grinding against his. “Dear God.”
She drew away. “I really want you to tie me up.”
He shook his head. “No.”
She leaned forward and kissed his neck. “Why not?”
He drew in a sharp breath and pulled back, startled by the intensity of the desire her soft kiss started in him. “Because you’re drunk and I don’t want to take advantage of you.” The absurdity of his statement hit him as she cocked an eyebrow at him and took his hands in hers and placed them on her breasts.
“You think you could tie a knot I couldn’t get out of?” She looped her arms around his neck again. “Really?”
He turned his head and swept in to cover her mouth with his again, felt her lips part, her thick hair a fragrant fall over his face as she gave in to his kiss. They parted, both breathless, and he searched for something sane to say. “I could tie you up, but only because I can tie a knot.”
Her lips curved. “What exactly does that mean?”
“It means I don’t know why you even want me to try.” He pulled the scarf from his neck.
She looked thoughtful. “I have yet to find a man who can tie a knot that’ll hold me.”
He considered, sliding the scarf through his fingers, enjoying the silky texture, thinking that it was but a pale echo of what her skin must feel like. “Why would I try?”
Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You tie a knot that’ll hold me and I’ll let you do…anything…” she drew one long red nail over the silk of his black tuxedo shirt and her eyes flickered back up to his. “Anything you want to me.”
Jesus, help me. For a second, he honestly couldn’t breathe, then he managed to suck air into his lungs and reply. “I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing.”
“I’m not. Why do you think I’m an escape artist? No man will ever have that kind of power over me.” Her voice sounded breathless, too. “In fact, it says something that I am willing to let you try.”
“If you can get out of any knot, what’s the draw for me?” He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously, why try if I’m going to fail?”
She appeared to consider, then leaned forward. Her lips teased his, skimming, tasting, then moving away. “I think it’s because I believe you can tie a knot I won’t want to escape from.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re not what I need right now.” But even as he spoke, he dug his hand into her red-gold mane of hair, pulling her roughly into a deeper kiss, feeling as if he’d like to devour her. He could smell the scent of her shampoo mixing with the heady fragrance of her perfume and the musky smell of her skin. Combined with the taste of her mouth, she was sweeter than any alcohol, more potent than any drug, more addictive and frightening than any gamble.
And more dangerous than any of the above.
****
He was so right. Even drunk off his kiss and surging from his caress, she knew he was right. They weren’t what each other needed. But that didn’t stop the want, and right then it was the want that she felt able to follow. Besides, what did it matter? It was one night. One night of satisfying the craving and she could move on.
She pulled away. “You’re right. We can’t do this here. Take me back to my place.”
His eyes narrowed, his hands on her shoulders. “I’ll take you to my place.”
“You don’t have a place. You have a room.”
“A suite, actually. And I didn’t want to mention it, but it’s nicer than yours. And closer.” He stepped away, pulling her off the counter and into his arms. He bent his head and kissed her again, the warmth of his embrace and taste of his mouth enough to meld her objections into a reluctant acceptance.
“Fine. Just get me there. Soon.” The last word came out in spite of her attempt to hold it back and she blinked. Damn she wanted him. And she refused to look at her desire any closer.
He led her through the front lobby and out to the valet stand. When the valet approached, he held up his hand, motioning at the approaching limo with authority. She wondered how he’d done that. She hadn’t noticed him making a call. But then, she was still feeling the effects of the wine…and him.
In the back of the limo, she let him draw her into his lap and kiss her, his hands trailing down her arms…she felt the silken touch of the scarf on her wrists and smiled against his mouth. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“The opportunity to tie up Lady Lydia? No way in hell.” His own hands were busy tying her hands. A simple figure of eight knot. She smiled a little.
“You’re not taking this very seriously.”
“You said it all depended on how much you wanted to get loose.” He moved his hands to her hips and pulled her down against him, letting her feel the steel of his erection. “I thought I’d put it to the t
est.”
She sucked in her breath with a soft moaning sound and pressed down against him, longing to feel more of him. But her eyes caught the look of triumph that passed over his face and she forced herself to slow down. She could slip the knot easily, throw the scarf back into his face, but he knew she could do that. What didn’t he know?
Keeping her smile internal, she moved her hips over his, sliding rhythmically as she covered his lips with hers. Her hands were bound behind her, but she had other resources. “Touch me.” She whispered the words against his mouth, commanding when she should have submitted to his will.
His lips parted with a soft sound. A whoosh, a sigh, almost a groan…almost a word. Acceptance of her power. His hands moved over her abdomen, her ribcage, her breasts, caressed her nipples through the fabric of her dress. And she could feel him wanting more.
When had the limo stopped? She looked around in bewilderment, crashing back to earth. God, did they really have to stop now?
He’d already reached for her zipper. “It’s okay. He won’t disturb us. No one will.”
“Oh.” At the first touch of his hand on her back, she jerked away. “Maybe, but I will.” She held up the loosened scarf. “Not here, Tony.”
A flash of irritation, a reluctant grin. “Jesus, Lydia. You’re going to drive me insane.” He shifted and pushed her off his lap. “I’m going to need a minute.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, then she turned toward him, running a teasing finger along his jaw. “Why is it we haven’t we done this before?”
He caught her hand and kissed her fingertip. “You’re not helping.”
She laughed. “If you only knew what I’m not doing that I would like to do…”
“Really not helping.” He sighed. “And I guess we never did this because I thought you had a thing for Andre.”
“Really?” She paused, thoughtful. “I admired Andre. I could tell how good he was. And we flirted a little, but I never really…and I don’t think he did either.”
His green eyes fixed on her face for a moment, and she felt like he was searching her for the real truth. Finally he nodded and moved toward the door. “Okay.”
“Okay?” She held back, but he opened the limo door and reached back to grasp her hand and pull her out with him.
He pinned her against him with one arm, lifting his hand to brush her hair back with gentle fingers. “Okay. I accept that you’re not hung up on my brother and never really were. And believe me—” he bent his head and kissed her, a long, deep, probing kiss as if they were already in the bedroom instead of at the front door of a swanky Vegas hotel with several guests and a couple of valets looking on. He drew away and looked into her eyes again, “—I’m grateful, because it’s gonna make this night much less weird for me.”
Chapter 5
When she stepped inside his suite, Lydia looked around in wonder. Everything was glass and shiny metal and black leather. It glittered and shone, glamorous and lovely. She let out a low whistle. “Well, you’re right. This is nicer than my suite.”
“It’s the difference between getting what you pay for and what management feels you’ll earn.” He tossed his key card onto the marble entry table and pulled her back into his arms. “Can I get you anything? Wine?”
“I think I’ve had enough wine.” She looped her arms around his neck. “I had something else entirely in mind.”
“Thank God.” He lowered his mouth to hers, found the zipper at her back and pulled it down. His warm palms explored the smooth skin of her back and she arched against him, her nipples aching for his touch. He laughed. “You’re still wearing entirely too many clothes.”
“Me?” She ran her hands over his chest and pushed the tuxedo jacket away. It dropped to the floor, joining her dress.
“Yes.” He slid one finger under each of the thin straps of her simple cami slip and pulled them down over her shoulders. “You.” His eyes on hers, he continued the process, inch by inch revealing her breasts. He smiled a little as if at his own powerlessness to resist the temptation and dropped his gaze just as her breasts were completely revealed. “My God, you’re beautiful.”
Why did those totally unoriginal words have such power? Maybe it was the way he spoke them, as if they were the only thought he was capable of having in that moment. Certainly the reverently tender way his hands explored her body made her feel as if his entire attention was taken up by her. He wasn’t thinking of box scores or stock quotes or anything else but how to please her.
Dear God, this is what Jana was talking about. I could get used to this. As his lips explored her neck, finding the sensitive areas beneath her ears, she felt her normal reserve giving way to a consuming desire to give in to his touch. She began to work at the buttons of his shirt, impatient to feel his skin against hers, but to her surprise, he captured her wrists in one large hand and then she felt the silken scarf winding around them, tightening just enough so she could feel it.
She looked at her hands, bound in front of her this time. “Again?”
He laughed at her outraged tone. “You did say if I tied a knot you didn’t want to get out of, you’d let me do—“ he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands trailing down, teasing her breasts and catching hold of her slip to pull it the rest of the way off “—anything…” He smiled up at her, his expression devilish, and checked the knot. “What do you think?”
She raised an eyebrow. “I could get out of this one. No offense, but it’s pretty amateurish.”
He kissed her belly button, his tongue sliding over the tender skin just above her black lacy panties teasingly, causing her to suck in her breath in surprise. He laughed. “That’s not what I asked. I asked you if you wanted to get out of it?”
“That depends.”
“On what?”
“On what you’re going to do while you’re down there and how bad I want to participate in it.”
“Hmm.” He hooked a finger on the lace of her panties, pulling them down just a bit, kissing the exposed skin. “This.” His voice sounded muffled and her consciousness seemed to have both shrunk and expanded, partly concentrated on the movement of his lips and tongue over her skin, partly at one with the universe, perfectly happy and content to let him kiss and caress and—her eyes had been partly closed, but at the first contact of his tongue between her thighs, they opened—“Oh, God!” She reached for him with her still-bound hands, burying her fingers in his thick hair.
“Oh yes. This.” He stroked and lapped and she felt his hands on her thighs, his fingers sliding into her. “You’re so wet, Baby.”
She moaned, leaning against the cold wall, letting her hips move against his hand, pressure building inside her. She felt him stand, his fingers still inside her, and her hands slipped from his hair, coming to rest between them, still bound, in almost a prayer position. His eyes fixed on her face with a hungry expression. “Come for me, Baby. I want to see you.”
Too far gone to resist now, she did, thrusting against his hand in total abandon as her orgasm shook her. She heard him make a soft sound, and he caught her when she might have fallen, unable to support herself with her hands bound. She opened her eyes, half ashamed of her loss of control, but his expression had become fevered with desire of his own, and she surrendered herself again to his lips, willing to do anything to give him the same pleasure he’d just given her.
****
He’d never seen anything more beautiful than her face when her orgasm hit her. He wanted to see it again, almost as much as he wanted to relieve the throbbing desire in his own loins. He lifted her, still kissing her, and carried her down the short hall to the bedroom. The privacy shades had not been drawn so the room was well lit by the neon of the strip. He laid her on the bed, realizing only then that she’d undone the knot on the scarf, leaving it trailing from one wrist.
“So you’ve decided to participate?” He stood at the foot of the bed looking at her lovely body as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it awa
y.
She laughed, coming toward him on all fours. “Oh yes.” Her hands reached for his belt buckle and she stood up on her knees, lips teasing his and moving to his neck, then lower, her tongue flicking over his left nipple and causing shivers of goosebumps to course through him, belying the white heat that built in his core. He reached for her, wanting nothing more than to discard his remaining clothing and cover her body with his, but stopped when he found his hands were bound by the same silk scarf he’d used on her.
“Dammit, Lydia.” He couldn’t decide whether to be irritated or aroused. His confused feelings mounted when she laughed at him, grasping his bound hands and pulling him onto the bed with her.
“My turn.” She straddled him, undoing his belt and pants with nimble fingers and sliding down his body as she helped him kick them off.
“I’m at a distinct disadvantage since you’re the escape artist.” He breathed in deeply.
She paused in trailing kisses over his thighs. Everything about her teased him. Her very breath was a caress on his erection. He could feel her smile against his skin, a red-hot curve of mischief that maddened him. She planted one final kiss on his right thigh and raised herself enough to look him in the eye. “It’s a simple knot, and it’s not very tight. You should be able to get it loose…if you want to.”
He gasped in surprised gratification when she took him into her mouth, her lips and tongue and even teeth such capable instruments of immeasurable pleasure he nearly forgot everything else. But the desire to see her face during orgasm again resurfaced as he felt himself nearing the edge. He began to work the knot she’d tied, cursing himself for not staying in practice. Escape was a part of so many of Andre’s illusions, and Tony had picked up enough so he knew he could untie the knot. He just wasn’t sure he could get it undone before she undid him.
Just when he thought for certain he’d never manage it in time, he felt it part and he worked his way free, grasping her by the shoulders and rolling them over so he could see her face against the pillows. Her eyes sparkled at him like wicked emeralds. “So you’ve decided to participate?”
Escape Magic Page 4
