by Donna Alam
‘Invite me upstairs,’ he breathes, running his thumbs from my brow to chin.
‘Why?’ The inane falls from my mouth in a whisper.
‘Because you value your privacy. Take me upstairs, kitten, come show me your claws.’
Desire dances between us like static electricity, longing almost palpable to the touch. I want to. God, I ache with want as his fingers travel lightly to my hips. But I also feel an overwhelming urge to assert some kind of control. In spite of myself and my arousal, I can’t disappear upstairs in the middle of an argument, no matter how hard my insides pulse at his poetic words. I need to make a point, though I can’t think quite what about at the minute.
Processing rational thought is a serious issue with his mouth just a hair’s breadth away. I’m so very aware of his breathing, the perspiration shining in the hollow of his throat. Involuntarily, I lick my lips, wanting to place my tongue there, let it travel the powerful muscles of his neck. Taste his salt, feel his . . .
Then he smiles, like he knows what comes next and suddenly that changes my mind, his actions hardening my resolve. I will not be a done deal today.
Fingers on his forearms, I lift his hands. ‘This is a party, Kai, and I’m not leaving. Just so we’re clear, I don’t sleep around and I don’t share, either.’ Drawing myself to my full five-foot-and-not-much, I tilt my head and sneer. ‘Sluts must be your thing. Tell me, what’s the difference for you between girlfriends and friends you just fuck?’
The muscles in his jaw begin to flex before he speaks. ‘Don’t do this here. Take me upstairs. Let me make the difference clear.’
‘I’m not interested right now, thanks.’
His fingers circle my wrist as I turn to walk away. ‘I’ve told you, people who fuck can never be friends. I want you, can make you feel those words. I promise monogamy in my affections. Is it so wrong to demand the same in return?’
‘But how long will your monogamy last?’ I place my free hand against his firm chest and stand on the tips of my toes to bring my mouth to his ear. ‘I’m not some girl you can fetter, fuck and . . . and forsake!’
His head recoils as I yank my wrist from his grasp. I turn on my heel and stride away doing my best to add a little sashay into my retreat, despite my bikini riding a slight wedgie.
Chapter Eight
My heart hammers against my ribs as I spend the next ten minutes trailing Niamh; my lifeline and strength in my resolve. We mingle, she introduces me to a smattering of people; names and faces that scarcely register as I sense his eyes following my every move. In my absence, the poisonous Jen all but drools over him, flicking her hair manically and tittering like a total twat. I can’t blame her, not really. He’s taken off his t-shirt, revealing abs you could use to grate cheese. I hate how the sight of Jen makes me almost want to pee on him myself. Obviously, not kinkily . . . each to their own, even if I can’t imagine what people find sexy in that.
But I feel sick with jealousy, and I want, irrationally, to tear the girl’s head from her shoulders. Sofia, Jen, either would do. I watch him peripherally, a bitter sickness twisting my insides. At the end of my forbearance and seething red-hot, I excuse myself from company, deciding to cool my anger in the pool. If Niamh senses my mood, she doesn’t say. Maybe she grew some tact?
Loosening my sarong to the tiles, I lower myself into the water and swim a cool length, coming to rest at the far side. Folding my arms across the pool edge, my legs are buoyant beneath the water line. To my right, Kai now stands at the edge of the cabana, one half of a deep-looking conversation with Niamh. His face wears an intense sort of look, while Niamh stands with hands braced against her hips in full-out teacher mode. I’m pleased I’m not in earshot and I don’t care if she is chewing his head.
Submerging my head in the now tepid water, I twist and push away from the wall. Halfway across the pool, I come to the surface much quicker than I should, not that I’ve intended to at all. I burst from the water like a flying fish as a head emerges from between my legs. I hang onto the head like grim death, as Matt links my feet under his armpits. Somehow, I’m securely seated on his shoulders.
What the hell?
‘Have you completely lost the plot?’ I splutter through the water, wiping it from my eyes and simultaneously struggling to stay upright.
‘We need a girl for the game. Your boyfriend won’t mind.’
Wading through the water, Matt approaches a group of guys who all appear to have precariously balanced girls on their shoulders. Behind me, Kai and Niamh stand no longer talking. Hand over her mouth, Niamh’s shoulders heave, but my heart begins the backstroke in my stomach acid at the dark look of displeasure clouding Kai’s face.
‘What? Are you twelve or something?’ I swat Matt firmly across the head, but I’m still stuck. Short of thrashing around like a tantrum throwing toddler or thrusting my groin into the back of his head, I can’t see how I can get down. ‘Let me go,’ I hiss, bashing him again.
‘If you’re in the pool, you’re fair game. Building rules,’ he says, laughing.
Before I have a chance to reply, a brightly coloured striped ball glides towards me. I swat it away from my head, back in the direction it came from, drawing my neck into my shoulders, like some turtle/girl hybrid. I think I also squeal, but the ball continues to travel back and forth without heed.
Concentrating on staying upright, I can hardly think straight as I imagine Kai’s gaze burning holes through my back. I make a few feeble attempts at avoiding the ball before it sails towards my head once more and, leaning far over to my left, I somehow manage to unbalance Matt. He falters, losing his footing and we fall inelegantly into the water as one. Swimming quickly from his grasp to the edge, I climb clumsily from the pool, and don’t look back as I approach Kai, now stretched out in the shade of the palm trees on the sun lounger where I’d earlier left my towel and bag.
‘Hey,’ I say softly, standing dripping wet at the edge of the lounger. His torso is now covered and dark aviator frames hide his eyes, but his mouth, set in a grim line, tells me all I need to know. Unexpectedly, I feel like a child awaiting punishment; an unpleasant sensation, I recall. Reaching for my towel, I run it through the ends of my wet hair. ‘You’re mad.’ The whispered mother of all understatements as I wrap the towel loosely around my waist.
‘I thought I’d made my feelings clear.’
‘You can’t be serious. That was an ambush!’ My voice rises in octaves. I try to regulate it; I don’t want to cause a scene. ‘But I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, it’s only a game.’
‘A game?’ he repeats. ‘Then why aren’t I having fun?’
Parting his legs over the bed, he lowers his feet to the tiles and motions for me to sit in the newly created space. I move towards him without thought, skittering across the tiles like iron filings drawn by a magnet. My tension lifts a little, his mere proximity heating my wet skin, though he makes no movement to touch me, or even speak.
‘Please, Kai. I don’t want to fight over some stupid misunderstanding.’ I slide my feet into my platform sandals, more something to do than a necessity.
Leaning his head against mine, he moves my wet hair to one side. It’s a tender gesture, I imagine, to those looking on, at least. I shiver as the warmth of his breath kisses my damp shoulder.
‘Another man’s head between your legs is perfectly explicit, don’t you think?’ His lips touch my skin before his body withdraws.
‘But that wasn’t—it shouldn’t, I mean . . . My words trail off, involuntary images blazing through my mind. His tone is inscrutable, making it hard to judge if he’s hurt or angry, but still my mind reels. I regret my earlier words, but should I really feel contrite for something I had no part in planning? There’s no intimacy involved in a game of volleyball, even if his head was . . . where it was.
My eyes slide to the pool, my gaze finding Matt’s. I don’t think I imagine his smug look.
‘I’ve no interest in Matt. I don’t play games,
I—’
I’m silenced by his finger against my lips as, arm around my waist, he pulls me against his chest. ‘Passion and anger are sometimes sides of the same coin, don’t you think?’
My brow furrows as I turn my head over my shoulder. Is he being deliberately obtuse? ‘Look, Kai, I don’t understand. What are you playing at here?’
‘Playing? We aren’t.’ He sighs, adding so softly, I almost don’t catch it, ‘more’s the pity.’ His slumps back against the bed. ‘Just forget it.’
‘You confuse me,’ I whisper.
‘I confuse myself when you’re around.’
And again, his words are so quiet, I’m not sure I hear right.
‘Then just tell me what you mean,’ I reply, trying to keep the exasperation out of my tone.
‘What I mean.’ He pauses, inhales, and sits forward again, threading his arms around my waist, his mouth at my ear. ‘Honestly? I want nothing more at this moment than to take you upstairs, make you lose the attitude and the bikini. Watch your face as I fuck you into some semblance of understanding. Fuck what I feel right into you.’ The end of his sentence draws off into a growl.
I almost convulse on the spot. My body shudders, his words a heat rushing through my bloodstream, swimming just under the surface of my skin, igniting in my mind and exploding in my core. My skin feels inexplicably alert, and I have a sudden urge to make this right, this thing between us. To make it better. And, obviously, on a more fundamental level, I just want what he wants. And I want him.
The towel falls to the bed as I stand and hold out my hand.
‘Come on, then.’ I try to take all emotion—excitement, trepidation, the urge to yell wheeee, out of my voice as his dark-lashed eyes make a slow progression up the length of my body, hooded eyes finally finding my own.
‘To?’
‘I’d tell you to take me to bed or lose me forever but the line’s a bit dated. A bit over-done.’
‘Are you making improper advances, Miss Saunders?’ His expression softens but is still a touch unsure.
‘Consider this a note from your teacher: See me. Upstairs.’
‘What about your friends?’ he asks, smile widening a touch.
I make a face as though considering this, then, ‘I’m not much into the group thing. Besides, my flat doesn’t have room.’
As he laughs, probably against his better judgement, he rises and takes my outstretched hand. Towering over me, a long finger tilts my chin.
‘Restitution?’ Fire still smoulders in his gaze, though his mouth is still a touch amused.
‘What? Oh, maybe in that case, someone needs to spank us both.’
His tentative smile transforms into a heart-stopping grin, like the rays of the sun breaking through a cloudy day and disappearing almost as quick. One minute my feet are on the tiles, the next they’re in the air as I find myself over his shoulder, arms hanging across his back as his large hands hold me by my knees.
‘Hey, put me down!’ I squeal as he moves towards the pool. For a mad moment, I think he’s going to launch me into the water and I’ve just gotten dry! Grabbing the waistband of his shorts, I cry, ‘No, Kai. Please not again!’
‘I love it when you beg.’ His voice is just a touch too loud, and he slaps my bikinied behind for emphasis.
‘Oi!’
Loosening my grip on the waistband of his shorts, I push my palms against the flat of his back to raise my head, desperate to hang onto the remaining fragments of my dignity. Girls giggle and guys snigger as we pass through their ranks. Matt is among them, looking seriously put-out as Kai bounds away, with me bouncing against his back.
‘You kids take care,’ Niamh calls in obvious delight.
I flip her the bird as best I can.
Chapter Nine
‘You can put me down now.’ My voice is muffled, my cheek lying against his back. ‘This isn’t very dignified, you know.’ As I raise my head, I can see my bikinied arse to infinity through the corners of the mirrored elevator walls. It’s as disconcerting as the flight of butterflies through my insides. I’m wondering how my shoes have stayed on when he slaps my arse again.
‘Ow! Lay off!’
‘You said you needed spanking.’ His reflection smiles wickedly. So I try to poke him with my toe without much success.
‘No, I said we, Kai, plural.’ Call it crossed wires, call it jealousy, but we’ve both been a little ridiculous this afternoon.
‘Not really my thing.’
‘And it’s mine?’ I squeak, and he laughs, but I don’t think it’s funny. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
The doors opens at this moment and he strides down the hall, not bothering to answer me.
‘Put me down, you can stop with the caveman thing now. Ha! You don’t have my keys . . .’ My words trail off as he dangles a familiar pink, fluffy key-fob, extoling the virtues of a generic Kate.’
‘Pays to have friends in high places, don’t you think?’
‘Low, you mean. Of all the dirty—Niamh gave you my keys?’ I squeak, incredulous. It could only have been her, I’d left them in her bag earlier. I’m so gonna have something to say to her about this.
‘She thought we could do with some alone time.’
Oh.
Inside, he makes a beeline for the open door to my bedroom, throwing me against my rumpled and unmade bed. I squeal as I land, bouncing against the mattress, a little short of breath and chest heaving in anticipation. Judging by the gleam in his eyes, it’s a good visual.
And, Christ, there’s a sex god in my bedroom!
Why didn’t I want to be here with him earlier, again? I must be nuts.
He doesn’t follow me onto the bed, instead stepping backwards until he’s leaning back against my dresser. He smiles that knowing smile. It’s an expression as provoking as the sliver of skin exposed above the waistband of his shorts. I bite my lip at the sight of the taut, tanned skin as he pulls his tee to rib height, drawing it further up and over his head. His hands and hips lean back again, legs crossed at the ankle in a very casual stance.
My every nerve is heightened as the muscles of his back bunch and relax in the mirror, his heated gaze roaming over my skin.
‘Come here.’ There’s a hint of playfulness in his husky command, but still I push back.
‘No. You come here.’
Unexpectedly, he shrugs as he pushes himself from the dresser, holding out his hand. ‘Okay, but fairs fair, sweetheart. I’m topless, it’s only right that you should be, too.’ Taking my hand in his, he pulls me from the bed, tucking me tight to his chest. ‘Take it off,’ he whispers into my hair, tugging on the loose end of my bikini’s halter-neck tie.
He could easily untie it—one slight pull and the whole thing would come loose. But he’s making a point. A push to my shove.
He turns me in his arms, and sliding behind me, pulls my still damp hair to one side. To better watch my reflection?
I smile at the mirror and raise one brow. ‘Haven’t you heard that saying, if you want something doing, you should do it yourself?’
‘There is that,’ he agrees, his low, throaty laugh licking my skin. ‘But sometimes you just want to watch someone do . . . themselves.’ His reflection smoulders in the mirror. ‘Especially when you’ve been privileged enough to see it with your own eyes.’
His finger slowly strokes my spine, the sensation travelling all the way to my bikini bottoms. I fight both the resulting quiver and my blush, recalling our make-up sex; the evening I’d stood before him, a hand between my legs at his command. Not that it’s not happening that way tonight, I decide, when he suddenly reaches out, loosening the strands at my neck and back.
Kate for the win!
Suppressing a smile, I pull the item from my skin, dropping it to the tiles as he watches me, eyes drifting over my body’s reflection, and back to my face again.
I start as his hands find my hips, the hard press of his cock flexing into me, making my knees feel suddenly unsteady.
I want to turn, push away his hands, place my own all over him. I chance a glimpse at him through the dresser mirror, desire pooling between my legs. This push and pull, this stand I feel I’m making: I’m fooling no one, least of all him.
If this is his business face, it looks like I’m a done deal.
‘You’re so hot when you’re angry. Cheeks the fire of defiance, such rebellious hell.’ Leaning into me, he kisses the sensitive skin behind my ear. ‘It’s almost worth falling out with you.’
I can’t hold out any longer. Despite all that happened at the pool, despite how sometimes he pushes me, my response is purely instinctive. My body melts into his, breath leaving my chest in a needy groan.
‘Stubborn little kitten. Even through your temper, your body responded just as clearly as your mouth said no.’
Not sure how that works, I don’t answer, shivering further as he runs his fingers under the elastic at my hips. With a deliberate slowness, he slides the tiny garment down my legs, travelling with them, and as an encore, grazes my cheeks with his teeth.
As he stands, he pulls me against him, arms circling my waist. ‘Am I doing this properly now?’
‘Shush,’ I whisper, pushing back against him, wanting to be absorbed into his skin. ‘Don’t talk.’
‘No?’ he taunts, entwining his fingers with mine, and raising them to the back of his neck. My breasts rise and tighten. ‘Just look at how good we are together.’ He runs the backs of his fingers down my arms until my breasts are full in his hands. ‘Something as good as this should never be fought. I want. You want.’
His reprimand washes over me, and I raise my eyes, taking a good look at the girl in his arms. Skin flushed, her chest rises and falls slowly as she stares back; desirous, carnal and hungry-eyed. His luxurious hair in my hands, I pull on the ends. He grinds into me, his breath harsh and eyes avid as he watches our reflections, the pads of his thumbs rubbing my hard nipples.
‘Because I want to be buried in you,’ he rasps.
