High Stakes Seduction
Page 12
“I feel used.”
“But hopefully in a good way?” He grinned.
Yes, dammit, in a good way.
“I have a terrible feeling this isn’t going to go well.”
“Don’t worry about it. I promise you’ll do fine. It’s a scramble.”
“I don’t even know what that means. That’s how clueless I am. I keep picturing scrambled eggs.”
“It just means that on every hole, after everyone tees off, you choose the best drive and everyone plays from there. It speeds up the game and gives less experienced players a chance to keep up with more experienced players.”
“How can I not worry about it?” she continued to fret. “I barely know a five iron from a pitching wedge. What is the difference?”
He laughed. “Patti will help you with that. Do you think Kirsten is that great of a golfer?”
“She’s not?”
“She only plays in scrambles because she’s not good enough to play any other way.”
“Oh, well then, I do feel a little better.” Eva grinned. “Does that make me petty?”
“It makes you human.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“Kirsten is here for the charity and to rub elbows with celebrities. Take a page from her playbook. Have a good time.”
“Sports metaphors. How come guys always have to talk in sports metaphors?”
“I think it’s genetic. Something in our Y chromo-some.”
“Apparently.”
“Your last boyfriend spoke in sports metaphors?”
“Why do you want to know so much about him? I told you, it’s over. Ancient history. Wasn’t really anything to begin with.”
“Just curious. I want to avoid the same mistakes he made.”
“Hang around and you’ll do fine. Keith’s biggest flaw was that he didn’t show up when he said he was going to.”
Why had she said that? It sounded desperate. Like she wanted Adam to hang around. Eva notched her chin up. She didn’t need anybody.
Adam followed the golf cart in front of them over a quaint little wooden bridge that stretched over a trickling creek. He reached over and took her hand. Held it.
She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let go.
“It’s okay to admit he hurt you,” he whispered.
“He didn’t. I was just dumb to get involved with him in the first place.”
Adam stopped when they reached the green and she hopped from the cart, happy to have her hand back, and dashed for her golf bag before either Adam or Patti could retrieve it. But she couldn’t get it unbuckled from the strap on the cart.
Adam came over and pressed his hand against her spine, just above the waistband of her skirt. “Allow me.”
She stepped back and let him at it.
“Just friends, huh?” Patti Carson winked as she walked past them to caddy for Kirsten and Teddy.
Teddy teed off first, then Kirsten. Adam went next.
Eva watched him tee up his golf ball, and then take a couple of practice swings. Her gaze fixated on his erect posture, the way his shoulders moved like an orchestrated whole, each part doing its job to drive the little white ball down the long green fairway, his shot surpassing both Kirsten’s and Teddy’s. He looked so edible. Like homemade brownies or fudge or chocolate chip cookies—something delectable and completely decadent.
And then it was her turn. Up to the tee. Everyone watching.
Ack! She was afraid she was going to miss the ball and spin around in a circle. That’s what had happened to her the last time she’d played miniature golf.
She settled the ball on the tee. So far so good. Okay, all right, even if she stunk up the place it was fine. They’d all shoot from where Adam’s ball had landed.
“Golfing glove.” Patti handed her a pink glove.
“Oh, thank you.” She put it on.
“One wood.” Patti passed her a club.
“Thanks again,” Eva said gratefully, and centered herself over the ball. Now what? This club was really long.
“Step back a little,” Adam’s voice soothed, his head right beside her ear. “Interlace your fingers like this.” He was behind her, his arms, around her, his fingers over hers, guiding her, showing her. “That’s it.”
His breath was hot on her neck, his back against her spine. Every bone, every nerve, every cell in her body melted.
“Keep your eye on the ball. Never take your eye off the ball,” he instructed.
She stared at the ball as if her life depended on it, determined to do him proud.
“Now swing back.” With his arms around hers, he pulled back.
They swung in unison. Her gaze riveted to the ball.
“Follow through.” He pushed her arms forward in a smooth swinging motion.
Her club hit the ball with a solid thwack!
“Keep your eyes on the ball,” he murmured.
She tracked it, her arms following her gaze and the ball sailed perfectly straight and true. It didn’t go as far as Teddy’s or Adam’s, but it went smack-dab down the middle of the fairway, rolling far past Kirsten’s ball.
“That was beautiful,” Adam enthused, wrapping his arms around her waist. He yanked her off her feet and swung her in a circle.
“Put me down,” she laughingly demanded. She still had hold of the one wood and she was afraid she was going to accidentally whack someone with it the way he was spinning her around.
Feeling giddy with her success, she giggled and when he settled her back down on the ground his face was so close to hers that she was almost certain he was going to kiss her.
He might have if Kirsten hadn’t cleared her throat and said, “Fine, we play Adam’s ball.”
She strode to her golf cart, Teddy scurrying behind her.
“Somebody’s miffed that you showed her up,” Adam chuckled softly.
“I was only able to do it because you helped me.” Eva grinned.
Another group of golfers was behind them, waiting to tee off, surrounded by cameras and spectators. Eva realized one was a well-known actor and she was struck again by how out of place she was here.
The sun had disappeared behind a bank of clouds smothering out the last remaining fingers of daylight. She’d heard warnings on the radio that morning that the heat was pushing potential thunderstorms up from Mexico. She hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time, but now the air felt sluggish and swollen with rain and the wind had picked up, sending little eddies of dirt swirling around the course.
They drove to their balls that sat glowing phosphorous-green on the fairway. They played a few more rounds, using Adam’s position to play from almost every time. Once or twice Teddy surpassed him, but never Kirsten or Eva.
And each time she was up to tee, Adam would come up behind her, put his arms around her and walk her through the shot. She loved golf, Eva decided. It was a very misunderstood game.
After the fourth hole, however, the weather that had been pouting and broody turned altogether mean. The wind snarled through the trees, snatching at the canopies of the golf carts and distant lightning lit up the sky. The air smelled of sulfur and thunder rumbled a warning. Go home, fools.
In the end, the sponsors called off the game. She and Adam had come in separate cars. They loaded up both sets of golf clubs in his trunk and he insisted on following her home, especially since her Jeep didn’t have a top. It didn’t start raining until they turned into the covered parking area of the apartment complex. Then the sky let loose.
Laughing, the wind whipping her hair madly about her face, Eva darted from her Jeep just as Adam stepped from his Maxima and opened an umbrella.
“You’re always prepared,” she said, feeling utterly breathless as he sheltered her from the rain.
“And you never are.”
“That’s half the adventure,” she said. “Never knowing what’s around the next corner.”
They were standing in the courtyard now, huddled together beneath his um
brella, the lightning moving closer, the thunder growing louder.
“Um…” Eva said, “the evening doesn’t have to end.”
“I think maybe it does.”
“You could come up to my place.”
He shook his head. “That’s not such a good idea.”
“Oh,” she said, feeling very disappointed. The way he’d been touching her all night had made her skin so sensitive. “Well, okay then. G’night.”
Then before he could see the hurt in her eyes, she turned and sprinted for her apartment.
13
TONIGHT, EVA WASN’T DOING naked yoga. Tonight, she was whirling around her living room like a naked dervish, dancing to some wild music he couldn’t hear from across the courtyard. Was it hip-hop? Rock? Pop? Rap? With Eva, who knew?
Adam kept his eyes glued to the telescope. Nothing short of an earthquake could compel him to look away. Her pert breasts—just the perfect size—bounced like independent wheel suspension on a luxury car as she leaped and twirled. The woman was an enthusiastic work of art, and he was dating her.
You’re not dating her.
Okay, not technically, but Eva thought they were dating. It felt like they were dating. He wanted to be dating her.
She spun, kicked. The butterfly on her back flashed past. It appeared to flutter as she moved. Flying free.
Butterfly.
It was the perfect symbol for Eva. Beautiful and light, unfettered and sensual.
Why was she interested in him? What did he have to offer a woman like her? She could literally have any man she wanted. Who wouldn’t be drawn to her joie de vivre? Who wouldn’t ache to kiss those lips, to run his palms over her skin, to slip his fingers through her hair? She was the most amazing creature and he couldn’t have her. Not for the long run. It was like Kirsten had said. He and Eva fit together like peanut butter and sausage. Still, he couldn’t help wishing, hoping.
Yeah, all that will fall apart when she finds out that you’re just hanging out with her because of Barksdale.
And he wasn’t even doing his job worth a damn. He was supposed to have planted a listening device in her cell phone tonight, but he’d gotten so caught up in teaching her to play golf, he’d completely forgotten about looking for an opportunity to do what he’d been assigned to do.
How he wished things were different. That they could be a real couple, really dating. He wondered when he’d started yearning for her so consistently.
It had come in measures, starting with the pure thrust of lust when he’d first gotten a peek at her doing naked yoga. His desire had grown steadily with each encounter he’d had with her, rooting deeper and deeper the more he got to know her. She was everything he was not and he knew that when this was over he’d forever have an empty feeling because she was no longer part of his life.
She’s not part of your life. She’s just an assignment.
He could tell himself that all day long, but it wouldn’t make it true. He wanted her with a vengeance.
The rain pelted against the window, clouding his view, but he could still see her through the streaks of water, dancing and dancing.
His need was a living thing—growing, burning, yearning. He had to have her.
Lightning flashed, bathing the dark courtyard in a split-second illumination of light. Thunder followed with a window-jarring crack.
He couldn’t deny his need any longer. He’d tried his best. Fallen back on every trick he knew. He had to have her. He didn’t care what it meant for his career.
That scared the shit out of him, but fear was no longer enough to hold him. The temptation was too great. The spell Eva had cast over him too intoxicating.
On and on she danced.
He could unzip his pants and satisfy himself as best he could, as he’d done on other lonely nights, but he knew it was no longer enough. He craved the feel of her body, the taste of her tongue, the smell of her hair. He was in knots over her and there was no undoing them. He had to have her.
The rain fell in buckets now, drenching the courtyard. He could barely see her. She was just a beautiful blur. But he imagined that her breath was coming in sexy, heavy pants, timed with the throbbing of the song. The tempo seemed to pound out Eva, Eva, Eva against the back of his brain.
Compelled, he got up from the stool. He wasn’t thinking. All rationality was gone. He only reacted, following the dictates of his body. He rushed out the door.
Instantly, he was drenched in the torrential downpour, his shirt plastered to his chest, his hair plastered to his head. He clambered down the steps, sprinted across the courtyard, the tune in his head driving him, driving him. Eva, Eva, Eva.
Up her stairs he went, two at a time. He was breathing hard, not from the exertion—he was in excellent shape—but from anticipation.
Saliva filled his mouth. Hunger tore at him. Eva was the only thing that could sate him. No other woman would do. Not now. Not ever.
Flashdance. She’d been whirling to Flashdance. The sound track from the old movie spilled from her apartment.
He reached her door. Lifted a fist. Thumped on it. Wham, wham, wham.
“Eva!” He yelled her name like Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire. No, more like William Hurt smashing through a window with a chair to get to Kathleen Turner in Body Heat.
He was that driven, that determined to get to her. That out of his mind for her.
She’d reduced him to this. Out of control, crazed, ruled by sex and need. Dammit, he was drowning and loving every minute of it. His career was unraveling and he didn’t care. Eva was all that mattered. She was both his salvation and his destruction. “Eva!”
She yanked open the door. At some point on his mad trek over there, she’d wriggled into yoga pants and a T-shirt, but her feet were still bare, her hair a wild tumble about her shoulders. “Wh—”
He didn’t give her a chance to speak. Just reached up with his palms and captured her face between them. He looked her squarely in the eyes and then he kissed her. Kissed her with every ounce of passion that had been growing inside him since the first moment he’d seen her. Kissed her until neither one of them could breathe. The cold wind blew water over them. He was getting her soaking wet.
Apparently, she didn’t care. She reached up, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him over the threshold. He stood there dripping water on her hardwood floor.
“Eva, I—”
“Shh, shh.”
She didn’t want to talk. That was fine with him. He’d always been a man of action, anyway. He didn’t speak another word, just leaned over to scoop her into his arms and stalked toward her bedroom.
“At last,” she said. “I wondered how long I was going to have to get naked in front of that window before you came to get me.”
HIS LIPS! SHE’D BEEN WAITING so long to taste his lips.
Adam held her tightly, as if he’d sooner have his arms chopped off than ever let her go.
Lightning flared outside the window. Thunder crashed as loud as if it had been in the same room with them. They both startled as the electricity snapped off, amputating the Flashdance beat in midthump and bathing them in black silence. The only sound was their raspy breathing and a distant wail of an ambulance siren.
Her bedroom was completely dark. Oh, this wouldn’t do, she needed to see him.
“Hang on,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. He set her down. “I’m just going to get some of those candles from the living room.”
He returned a second later with two vanilla-scented candles in his hands. He settled them on the top of her bureau, and then turned to draw her into his arms again.
His hot mouth took possession of hers and she felt herself melting against him as his strong arms pulled her closer. His solid erection pressed hard against her thigh.
Sensation swamped Eva’s body. Enveloped her in a snug embrace. Her nose twitched with the earthy smell of him. Her lips tingled, anxious to taste his raw, masculine energy. Goose bumps rippled ove
r her skin at the heat radiating off him. Her fingers splayed over the wet T-shirt clinging to his chest and she felt his thudding heart as she heard her own heartbeat pounding through her eardrums.
Welcomed. She felt welcomed.
He pushed her back against the wall, glaring down at her. “Woman, you can’t keep driving me crazy. Naked yoga. Naked dancing.”
“So,” she murmured in a soft, teasing tone. “You like to watch.”
“It’s not—”
She laid a finger against his lips, breaking off his words. “Shh, you don’t have to lie. I’m not mad.”
“You’re not?”
Eva leaned into him, felt the heat rolling off his muscular body. “I find the idea sexy.”
“You do?” he croaked.
“It’s so naughty.” She splayed a palm to his chest and pushed him backward until he planted his feet by the end of the bed.
His eyes flashed fire and he growled low in his throat as he lowered his head to nibble at her throat. She realized she could lose herself in this man. Fully, completely—and that scared her more than anything. If she were smart, she’d ask him to leave.
But she couldn’t. She didn’t want him to leave. She wanted him to make love to her all night long.
“Adam,” she whispered.
His body surrounded hers. His eyes had darkened. His hand was tight around her wrist.
Her flesh burned from her heart to her stomach, straight down to her sex. Burned and ached and craved.
His mouth claimed her.
She might not want to admit she belonged to him, but her body had other plans. Involuntarily, she arched against him, her pelvis grinding against his. His erection was granite. No, harder than granite.
“Eva,” he rasped.
She opened her mouth to tell him to take her, but his tongue darted between her parted teeth and she got nothing out but a soft sound of exhalation. He swallowed her up in one heady gulp. She didn’t even know how it happened but one minute he again had her back pressed up against the wall, the next minute he had his knees shoved between her legs, prying them apart, while he bent his head to suckle her nipple through the cotton material of her T-shirt.
“You like things wild?”