SNAKE

by Leal, Samantha

  He sank onto one of the cinema seats and pulled her into his lap, his hand immediately delving beneath the hem of her dress as his lips took her in a torrid, urgent kiss.

  Sage eagerly parted her lips for him, her tongue meeting and melding with his as he kissed her. The kiss took on a life of its own, and soon, he was kissing her, and stroking and caressing every inch of her flesh, setting her on fire. Sage jumped a little when his hand stroked up her thigh to the juncture of her thighs and encountered naked, pulsing, wet pussy.

  He jerked with surprise and pulled away from the kiss to look into her eyes. “No underwear?”

  “It was a dare.”

  “I’m liking your friends more and more by the minute,” he crooned.

  “If I had known this was what was underneathor wasn’t underneath I would have fucked you on the Ferris Wheel hours ago.”

  Sage chuckled with heady pleasure. Who knew a man’s simple, direct, sexual attention could be so empowering and intoxicating? She felt like a sex goddess; she felt as if she had captivated him with her sheer charm and prowess and all without any effort whatsoever.

  “Yeah, your eyes did seem to glaze over a little one time on the Ferris Wheel.”

  “Because I was wondering if you would slap my face if I solicitously grabbed your boob when it threatened to spill out of your dress.”

  She threw back her head and laughed. This man was amazing and dynamic and a lot of wonderful things in between. Here she was, about to have what promised to be wild sensual sex with a perfect stranger and she was laughing her head off unselfconsciously in his arms. With Brent, she had never been this free and carefree; she realized, looking back now, that she had had to dim her light to accommodate his fragile ego. Never again, she promised herself now. She would never let herself be that person again for any human being.

  She got distracted then because Raven dipped one slow finger into her pussy and began to caress the tiny nub of flesh. Unconsciously, she spread her legs wider to give him better access. His long, slim finger stroked her clitoris, gently sending sharp thrills of desire pulsing through her. Wetness pooled between her thighs, coating his fingers as she restlessly moved against him. He slowly, gently pushed one finger deep into her pussy, shoving, pushing, thrusting until he had embedded it in her tight, wet passage.

  He leaned his head almost weakly against her shoulder and groaned, “Fuck, you’re tight as a virgin! Are you?”

  She shook her head, a small smile on her lips. “Brent was my first, though.”

  “Who the hell is Brent?” he roared possessively.

  Sage chuckled. His pretense at jealousy was sweet even though she knew he didn’t really mean it; maybe on some basic male level, but not really. A woman could love a man like this, she thought. Her laughter died immediately.

  Don’t Sage, don’t you dare fall for the man! You will never see him again after tonight, so enjoy it for what it is, she cautioned herself.

  “My ex-fiancé,” she informed him, gently stroking his huge, pulsing arousal through the jeans. He felt bigger than any man had any right to be, she noted worriedly. It was probably just the jeans, she thought.

  “Oh! Brent! Bet he had a dinky one,” he said dismissively with smug pleasure.

  It was so out of character for him that she laughed and laughed. She was still laughing when his finger began to thrust in and out of her and his warm wet mouth enveloped her nipple, sucking, tugging and licking in perfect rhythm with the motion of his finger in and out of her.

  Sage threw back her head, writhing in his arms as he made love to her with his finger, driving the peak of pleasure higher and higher until she was spiraling out of control and shattering into a million pieces in his arms.

  She drifted back to earth slowly, her long lashes lifting drowsily over her brown eyes. He gazed at her with something almost like genuine affection shining in his black eyes and then in a sudden flurry of movements, he lifted her right off his laps and flipped her onto her stomach so she was leaning over the back of the row of cinema seats in front of them.

  The uniqueness of the position and the surroundings was so risqué and adventurous that she felt her blood begin a slow boil inside of her.

  Sage gasped automatically when a movie suddenly came on and began to play on the projector.

  “Raven. Someone could see us. It’s time for a movie,” she whispered.

  He didn’t answer, just positioned himself behind her and thrust home with a grunt of satisfaction. Sage moaned against the back of the seats and her hips automatically began to undulate, twisting this way and that as he loved her.

  Raven’s large hands came around her to grasp her breasts and he began to thrust into her again and again. Sage groaned with pleasure, her hips grinding back against him as he loved her from behind, the wet, slurping sound of their lovemaking sounding as loud as cannon shots in her ears. Her eyes were trained almost frantically on the entrance as she waited for people to begin to file in, but that hint of danger only served to heighten her desire.

  He was so incredibly huge that he stretched her to the utmost, but it was pleasurable not painful because she was so unbelievably wet that his thrusts were smooth as he glided in and out of her.

  A shout of laughter just outside the entrance announced the arrival of people and Raven immediately quickened his thrusts, his fingers determinedly kneading and squeezing her breasts as he fucked her harder, faster, more urgently. The fear of discovery tightened every muscle in her body and in one second, she was moaning softly, her vagina clenching and unclenching around him. As she squeezed his penis inside her involuntarily, he groaned audibly and then he too came in a rush, his penis twitching and jerking as he exploded inside her in wave after wave of pleasure.

  By the time the first person appeared and started up the stairs, Sage and Raven were back in their seats, innocently focused on the movie lighting up the screen.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  It was at times like this, she heartily cursed her fair complexion, Sage thought, blushing furiously as Raven waggled his brows at her as they exited the movie theatre, two hours later.

  She had watched the rest of the movie in a state of heightened awareness and helpless sensual daze because Raven’s hands had kept creeping into her dress and caressing her until she was near to fainting from sheer desire. The man was insatiable, she thought. After the explosive orgasm he had experienced, she would have thought he would not be able to have sex immediately after, but instead, he had been hard as a rock all through the movie.

  Now, as he led her out, the gleam in his dark, slumberous eyes told her plainly that he hadn’t had enough of her.

  “Will you come home with me tonight?” he asked, his eyes resting on hers as he watched her carefully.

  Ever the gentleman, he had just had unbridled, passionate sex with her and yet, here he was, courteously asking her permission to have more sex with her. He seemed almost too good to be true, she thought, her eyes misting a little as she considered it.

  She nodded almost shyly, and he grinned at her, with something almost like relief on his face. He leaned down and kissed her cheek gently, the unexpected motion making her eyes fly to his in surprise.

  His eyes were so tender as he gazed back at her, and Sage swallowed nervously. Raven turned away then, to hail a cab, and she relaxed a little.

  What was going on? Why had he looked at her with such emotion in his eyes? This was all just sex and fun for both of them, wasn’t it?

  A cab slid to a smart halt in front of them just then and she stopped analyzing. Minutes later, the taxi pulled up to the same hotel she was lodged at and she looked at him in surprise.

  “You are lodged here?”

  He shook his head. “No. I am not lodged, per se. I actually own the hotel, so I have my own suite here, for whenever I’m in Spain.”

  “Oh. Of course.”

  He hadn’t been kidding, then, when he told her that he owned the restaurant she had been at earlier with h
er friends and had threatened to throw her out.

  The lift took them to the highest floor and her breath caught in her throat at the plush luxury of the place. She stared around, her eyes almost falling out of her sockets in sheer wonder and amazement. The entire ninth floor of the hotel was built as a suite for his sole use. It was a veritable palace! It had to be the most luxurious room she had ever seen in real life or, indeed, in any other life.

  Sage stared, mouth agape, at the ridiculously expensive furniture gracing different parts of the living room, pure gold ash trays, the thick, exotic rug that swallowed her feet, a chandelier that had to have cost an arm, a leg and a few other body parts, and several other choice furniture.

  Raven turned to face her, his eyes darkening with passion as he reached for her. Sage automatically turned her face up for his kiss, her arms winding around his neck as his large hands kneaded her soft skin and molded her soft, womanly curves to the hard strength of his masculine body.

  “From the moment I saw you in that lobby, I wanted you,” he whispered against her lips.

  Sage rolled her eyes as she leaned back in his hands. “I sincerely doubt that. Come on, you looked so disgusted with me. I was amazed you didn’t spit on me or something. I don’t blame you,” she added with a smile to show she wasn’t angry.

  His arms tightened about her, keeping her from pulling away from him. “I reacted so aggressively because I wanted you so much it was all I could do to keep my hands off you. I couldn’t get you out of my mind for a minute, and I even rushed back out to apologize, but you and your friends had disappeared,” he said. “Then, when I walked into the restaurant, minutes later, and saw you seated there, I thought my mind was playing cruel tricks on me.”

  Sage frowned dubiously at him, “You didn’t seem inclined to apologize for anything when we met at the restaurant. You were going to throw me out, remember?”

  Raven laughed, shook his head. “You really don’t understand men, do you? That was a jealous rage, nothing more.”

  Sage stared in surprise. “You’re a very weird man, Raven Hawthorne.”

  “So I’ve heard tell,” he murmured huskily as he lowered his head and took her lips in a slow drugging kiss that curled every last one of her toes and made her cling to him lustily.

  “Make love to me, Raven,” she said simply.

  His heart skipped a beat at the expression in her chocolate brown eyes. “Are you ready?” he asked, leaning down to lightly brush his lips against hers again.

  When he lifted his head for a second, she said, staring up at him, honesty shining in her eyes, “Apparently, all you have to do is touch me and I’m wet and ready.”

  Raven lifted her into his arms, his lips still joined with hers and carried her into a huge bedroom with a mighty king-size bed adorning the middle. As he lowered her onto it, Sage knew without a shadow of doubt that it was going to be a long, sensual night; very long indeed.

  * * *

  Sage came awake with a start, wondering what had woken her. She was so exhausted she could barely see straight and she stared around in disorientation at the strange surroundings, trying to place where she was. Her phone vibrated beside her again and she stared at it, realizing then that this was what had woken her up.

  Awareness returned in seconds and she looked over at the other occupant of the bed; Raven Hawthorne. The man had to be the most passionate male of the species alive! After the movie theatre, he had made love to her five more times in one night, his appetite for her as intense as it was insatiable. A blush of pleasure stole up her cheeks as she recalled the various positions they had tried; positions she never even knew existed. They should have felt kinky and bad, but with him, everything just, somehow, felt right.

  She leaned up on an elbow to stare down at him and an unexpected wave of tenderness swept through her, shocking her in its intensity.

  She cared for him, she realized, her wide brown eyes widening further in shock. Heck, she loved him, she realized.

  Her heart thudded in her chest with that realization and the sheer shock of it sent her moving. She scrambled out of the bed in a flurry of long limbs and tangled sheets, and her eyes widened as she realized that she had, indeed, managed to fall for a total stranger after just one night together.

  She stared down at him in half-shock, half-tenderness, unconsciously memorizing his face as her eyes scanned his features. His long lashes framed his cheeks, resting against his cheekbones in a way that softened the firm, hard angles of his face. Sage slowly leaned down and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand, noting with surprise that his face was soft.

  He looked so peaceful as he slept, almost like a baby, and was it her imagination or were his red lips somewhat puckered in slumber, she thought with a delighted grin.

  Raven stirred in his sleep and murmured, “Sage.”

  Her heart skipped a beat; how could he be murmuring her name in his sleep already?

  Panicked, she edged away from the bed, moving as silently as possible. A quick glance at the alarm clock told her it was just 4:00am. Slowly, she struggled into her dress and picked up her strappy sandals in her hand. As her hands brushed against her naked breast, she blushed anew, remembering how Raven had worshipped them during their lovemaking. As she turned to leave, she subconsciously looked around for some sort of keepsake to remember him by.

  Her eyes alighted on the wallet flung carelessly on the tabletop; she didn’t dare take his wallet, that would be too cheap. As though on cue, her phone beeped again, and this time, she looked at the screen. It was a message from Eden that said simply, “Don’t forget the last leg of the bet; snatch his wallet!”

  She turned away, resolutely, to face the door, determined to just leave before he woke up. The rest of her life seemed to stretch emptily in front of her and with a frustrated sigh, Sage slowly turned back toward the bedside table and picked up the wallet. This was a very personal belonging and would remind her of him. Her eyes went to his gold watch resting beside the wallet. She returned the wallet to its position and picked up the watch instead; it was cold to the touch, but it was customized with his initials stenciled at the back of the watch and his picture inserted as the background on the face of the watch.

  As she left the room, his watch dangling in her hand, she cast one last look over her shoulder, bidding him a silent goodbye.

  Sage didn’t notice the tears streaming down her face as she went downstairs to her own room with the girls; she didn’t notice that her hair and clothes were tellingly disarrayed; she didn’t notice that other guests stared at her with curiosity as she descended; all she knew was that her heart was breaking into tiny pieces with every step that took her away from the one man that had touched her heart so profoundly in a matter of hours and left an indelible mark of his essence on her soul.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Raven Hawthorne steeped his fingers together in front of his face as he stared with acute displeasure at the bumbling private detective in front of him. The man was Irish with freckles on every inch of his face and eyes that seemed smart and intelligent, but so far, he wasn’t impressed.

  “Are you telling me that, in two months, you have been unable to find even one of the three women?” he inquired silkily.

  The man paled, his thin upper lip trembling as he croaked, “We have expended considerable resources, Sir. We can’t trace the women. They might as well have dropped off the face of the earth for all the clue they left us.”

  “But I gave you the name of one of them…Sage! Sage Talbot.”

  “We doubt if that is her real name, Sir, and even if it were, there are over three thousand Sage Talbots living in the States alone,” the private eye wheezed.

  Raven hid his disgust behind a polite smile as he rose to his height and offered the man a parting handshake. This man was wasting his time and if he didn’t get rid of the loser in under two seconds, he would probably be tempted to strangle the man.

  In the two months since he had woken up to fin
d Sageif that was even her real first name gone, he hadn’t been himself. He had become unusually cold and ruthless, firing employees at the drop of a hat and driving bargains that were so hard that most of his business associates were openly becoming wary of him.

  She’d had the unmitigated gall to screw his brains out and then steal away in the dead of night, taking his favorite wristwatch with her, like a common thief. A hitherto unrevealed and lame sentimental side tried to tell him that perhaps she had taken the wristwatch to serve as a keepsake; a memento to remember him by. He ruthlessly shoved that thought aside. There was no justification for what she had done; she had stolen from him and he would hunt her to the ends of the earth, if he had to, to take back what she stole from him.

  His hotel records had not been able to yield much about the three friends because they had paid cash, but he had a friend in the FBI who might be able to help him. He recalled that he had managed to take a picture with her in one of those public photo booths. He ripped the picture out of his wallet, breathing a sigh of relief that at least she had not taken his wallet as another souvenir.

  He would send the picture to a friend at Quantico; see if he could use some sort of face recognition software to help him.

  He spun his chair around to stare out the huge French windows at the bubbling streets of New York. Somewhere in this world was the woman who had stolen his wristwatch, the last gift his mother had given him before she died and he would find her, or die trying.

  She had stolen something else too, he admitted to himself, but he didn’t want to examine it too closely to ascertain what it was.

  * * *

  Sage Tariq bent over the toilet and emptied the contents of her stomach, her face twisted in a grimace as she stared at what she had thrown up.

  It wasn’t every day a person learned she had gotten pregnant by a faceless stranger with the unlikely name of Raven Hawthorne. She could track him down, she knew, but she didn’t want to. She knew his hotel in Spain and his restaurant too, but he wasn’t a Spaniard; he was American. She had never tried to find out if he lived in America or Europe, but she knew one thing, she wanted this baby. It was unexpected, yes, but it would be a reminder of the most magical night of her life. She stared, with regret, at the wristwatch she had taken from him as a keepsake; if she had known he had given her something as precious as the life she carried beneath her breast, she would never have taken a mere watch. Eden and Beth had not even remembered to ask if she picked his wallet in line with the bet’s rules; they had been too involved in getting the details of their lovemaking.