Wickedly Hot

by Leslie Kelly

He shook his head. “Sex isn’t the right word.”

  “An apology? Okay, I’m sorry.”

  “That’s not it, either, though I’m glad to hear you say it.”

  He obviously hadn’t heard the sarcasm in her voice.

  “Even though I know you don’t mean it.”

  Maybe he had.

  “I mean, you owe me a chance.”

  A chance for…revenge? To punish her? Hurt her in some diabolical way as she’d hurt him? “To do what?”

  He lifted his hand to her face and ran his fingers across her lips. She couldn’t resist nipping at them. The frustration inside her required the outlet. It was incredibly tense to stand here fully clothed, with a fully aroused, powerful, gorgeous naked man.

  “I mean,” he continued softly, “you owe me a chance to convince you to stay this time.”

  That rocked her right in her shoes. But before she could respond, he curled his hand around her head, wrapping his fingers in her hair. Not giving her time to refuse, he pulled her close, capturing her mouth in a kiss full of heat and anger, desire and lust. His tongue swept over hers as he nearly drank from her, consuming every bit of energy she might otherwise have used to protest.

  When he finally pulled away, he looked down at her with wide eyes. His lips were parted, his breathing ragged. And between him, the hard, living proof of his hunger grew even harder. Stronger. Until she couldn’t help but reach down and encircle him with her hand.

  He groaned, low and long, as she caressed him, stroking his length with her fingers, giving out a helpless little whimper of her own at the feel of all that satin skin around that rock-hard heat.

  “Give me a chance to make you unable to walk away this time,” he whispered hoarsely.

  Jade could no more resist than she could have said no to a chance for eternal happiness. There was no thinking. No logic. No revenge, remorse or family loyalty.

  Nothing but overpowering want.

  Stepping back, she reached around and unfastened her long black skirt. It fell to her feet and she kicked it aside. Ryan’s eyes devoured her as hers had done with him. She hadn’t gotten this far undressed last night.

  “Ahh…I never got to find out what you were wearing under your dress,” he murmured as he reached for her hip. He toyed with the elastic strap of her silky black thong, tugging it away from her skin and caressing her with his fingertips. “Was it something like this?”

  She shook her head, reaching up to tug her tight tank top up and over her head. “Actually,” she said as she threw it to the floor, “it was nothing like this. I mean nothing.”

  He smiled, catching her meaning. “Somehow I knew you were bold enough to come to that party without any underwear.”

  She smiled back. Then the lightness faded away and he simply stared at her clad in her black sandals, the panties and a matching lacy black bra that pushed her breasts up in pure invitation.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. He nuzzled her chest, running his tongue over the curves of her breast. When he slipped lower, to tease one achingly sensitive nipple, she shuddered. Her legs felt weak, unable to support her, and she leaned into him.

  “To bed, Jade,” he said, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her across the room.

  “Please tell me you didn’t just steal this room,” she whispered before she was completely lost to sensation.

  He chuckled. “I’m registered. It’s my room.”

  “Thank heaven.”

  Then she gave herself over to it, to the insane frenzy she’d felt for this man since the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

  He slowly stripped off her sandals and her panties, stroking her long legs, running his hand teasingly across her curls until she shivered.

  “Please…”

  “Absolutely.”

  He reached for the front clasp of her bra and undid it with two fingers, watching as it popped open. A deep groan told her how much he liked what he saw.

  “Lie back,” he ordered, nudging her over on the bed as he knelt beside her. She did, raising her arms above her head and writhing on the sheets, loving the coolness of them against her skin.

  “Tell me you wanted me last night,” he murmured against her breast. “That whatever the hell made you do it, it was just as painful for you to walk away as it was for me to see you leave.”

  She couldn’t lie. Not now, when he was touching her like this. Not when he was absolutely right. “I wanted you,” she admitted, her voice breaking as he lavished attention on one sensitive nipple with his mouth, and the other with his fingertips. “So much I sat in my car and shook for ten minutes afterward.”

  “Yeah? Well I stood in my shower and jacked off for ten minutes afterward.”

  She groaned, inflamed by the hot, exciting words, just as she was inflamed by the amazing things his hands and mouth were doing to her.

  She closed her eyes, savoring it all. Every sensation built upon the last one. His touch, his smell, the way his lips felt…there, oh, yes, there on her neck…and on her jaw. The way his strong, rough hands slid up each arm as he covered her. The clasp of their fingers.

  And then…

  “What are you doing?” she said when she felt the first chill of cold metal against her wrist.

  Before she had her answer, the second one was equally enclosed.

  “Handcuffs?” she said, realizing he’d restrained her. He’d handcuffed her to the bed.

  Under other circumstances, she might have enjoyed something so naughty. But this was their first time.

  And he hadn’t asked. He’d simply gone ahead with something that was usually reserved for a bit later in a relationship. Like at least past the first date!

  “I’m not comfortable with this, Ryan,” she said, looking him in the eye to convey her seriousness.

  He met her stare intently, then pressed one quick kiss against her lips. “I’m sorry, babe,” he said. “You don’t have a choice.

  She only began to understand when he rose from the bed and reached for a pair of jeans draped on a nearby chair.

  No, he couldn’t be doing this. Couldn’t possibly have done this to her all for…

  “Paybacks are hell, Jade.”

  She heard the regretful tone in his voice but chose to ignore it, focusing only on her rising fury. “Unfasten me right now, you bastard.”

  He shook his head, calmly pulling on a black T-shirt. He watched her strain and twist against the cuffs. If he’d smirked, if he’d looked triumphant, she probably would have found the adrenaline to rip the frigging headboard apart. But he continued to look sorry so she tried to calm down. “Okay. I probably deserved this. I did something pretty wicked to you last night.”

  Not that he hadn’t deserved it, too.

  “Someday you’ll have to tell me why you did it.”

  Over her dead body. So he could go off and torment Jenny with the same kind of revenge? Not a chance.

  God, the thought of him with her younger sister made her sick. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten, in these few intensely erotic minutes, that she couldn’t have him. She hated the idea of him sharing anything this intimate with Jenny. Hated imagining Jenny seeing him, being touched by him.

  But probably not being handcuffed by him.

  “I…I thought you were too cocky,” she said, scrambling for something that sounded reasonable. “I was trying to bring you down a peg. Teach you not to be so overconfident with women.”

  He leveled a stare on her, thankfully keeping his attention focused on her face and not on her naked body so completely at his mercy. “And I suppose you’ve never heard of just telling a guy no?”

  Okay, lame story and he wasn’t buying it. “Look, you’re right, it was awful and I regret it.” She wiggled the handcuffs. “Really, really regret it. So let’s call it even. Okay?”

  He sat in the chair, pulling on some shoes. “Sorry. Too late.” Without another word, he stood and walked over
to her pile of clothes. “Just in case you somehow manage to make like Houdini…” He picked them up—skirt, top, sandals, undies and all—and headed toward the door.

  “Dammit, Ryan, get back here! You can’t do this to me.” She couldn’t imagine anything worse than being left here, exposed, naked, vulnerable.

  He looked over his shoulder. “I think you need a lesson. Be thankful I’m not leaving the door open so you can be spotted by anyone happening along.”

  Okay, that would be worse.

  When he reached for the knob, her hope plummeted, and she tried one last desperate trick. “Ryan,” she said, keeping her voice low and seductive, “look, you made your point, just like I did last night. Are we going to let these silly little games get in the way of what we could have together?”

  That got him. He froze, hand on knob, and turned to look at her. She stretched sinuously, knowing gravity and a flat surface were helping her body look its absolute best.

  He devoured her with his stare. Pure sexual hunger shone on his face and she had to twist a little on the bed as sensations she’d thought he’d killed with the snap of a handcuff returned full-force.

  She didn’t know what she’d do if he changed his mind. Brain him, or welcome him. Push him off her or dive on top of him herself.

  In any case, she felt sure she had succeeded in changing his mind. Right up until the minute he opened the door.

  That killed the moment. “You son of a bitch, I’ll scream. If you do this, you’d better come back armed, because I’m going to kill you when you unlock me.”

  His laugh was wicked and made her even more furious. “You won’t scream because I don’t think you want your uncle Henry finding you like this.”

  He was right. The fiend.

  “And you won’t kill me, Jade.” He walked the few steps back to the bed. Then he bent down, sliding his hand around her head and capturing her mouth in another of those incredible hot, wet kisses that fed her desire even as it fueled her anger.

  When he lifted his mouth, she couldn’t say a word, could only stare at him in disbelief.

  “Once you’re sufficiently paid back for last night,” he said, “maybe then we can finish what we started.”

  While she still panted, reacting from their kiss, trying to decide whether she was bloody furious or aroused enough not to care, he bent down and retrieved something from the floor. “Here. I won’t leave you without any of your belongings.”

  She held out hope that he’d at least give her a shirt or something to cover up. When he dropped her black, spike-heeled shoes—the ones she’d forgotten in the garden the night before—she could only groan. And try to kick him.

  He easily evaded her foot. Then he got up, walked to the door and left the room. Leaving her, the always put-together Jade Maguire, naked and handcuffed to his bed.

  7

  A MONK WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN able to walk out of that bedroom without regretting it the minute he’d shut the door. And Ryan was no damned monk.

  “She’s gonna be furious,” he whispered, leaning against the door, knowing he’d be facing an enraged woman when he returned to the inn. Even more enraged by his parting shot and final kiss. A woman with pride as great as hers would never let him take up where they’d left off. She’d be stewing over it, getting herself good and worked up and ready to rip him apart the minute he walked back in the room.

  No second chance. No forgiveness. Certainly no body-rocking sex, which he needed right now like a starving man needed food.

  But only with her. How could he deal with that? The only woman he wanted—the only woman he literally hungered for—was doomed to hate his guts forever and ever, amen.

  Maybe it was just as well. He would need her hatred, her anger, to keep his defenses up. He’d come here to Savannah to expose her as a thief. To retrieve his family’s property.

  Not to become her lover. Not to worship every inch of her body, starting with her curved foot and those endlessly long soft legs. Not to kiss the hollow of her stomach or sample again the dusky sweet nipples he could still taste on his tongue. Not to find her secrets buried behind the curly patch between her legs.

  Not to discover why he was affected by her as he’d never been affected by any other woman in his whole life.

  “Moron,” he called himself, thrusting away from the door to stalk down the stairs, trying to shake off his lust with every pounding step. He was going to lose it in his pants if he let his mind go down that road again. Once he got back from his mission, freed her and was alone again, he’d take care of himself. His hand would be a poor substitute for any part of the body he’d left lying on his bed. But it would have to do.

  Almost not realizing he was doing it, he lifted Jade’s shirt to his face and breathed in her sweet, flowery scent. How twisted was that? He was a total idiot. He’d let a con woman make him start fantasizing about the kind of sexual relationship he’d never known. And maybe about even more.

  No way could he ever like, respect and enjoy the company of someone he couldn’t trust an inch. Yet those were the feelings he had with Jade whenever he let down his guard, let himself forget why he’d sought her out in the first place. It was easy to forget. Especially when she was in his arms.

  Or naked.

  Balling her clothes in his fist, he reached into the pocket of her skirt and found what he’d hoped to—a small key ring. He knew her address. The P.I. had given him that. But the keys were a lucky break. Now he wouldn’t have to actually break anything while he did his nighttime breaking and entering.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was parked on a small, quiet tree-lined street in an older part of town. Formerly townhouses for the wealthy, the buildings all around had been converted into apartments or condos. Jade’s building wasn’t exactly shabby, but it had the same worn, run-down feel of the rest of the street. Not for the first time, he wondered about her motives for stealing.

  “Maybe she really just needed the money,” he mused aloud.

  Coming from a wealthy family, and having a good job, he’d never been put in the position of needing money. He liked to think he’d never resort to stealing, but until he was actually tested, he didn’t know what he’d do if, say, a loved one needed food, medicine or shelter. It was something to consider, anyway.

  He got out of his car, closing the door quietly behind him. As he slipped through the shadows of overgrown trees and bushes, he again noted the condition of the building. The lawn was wild and unkempt, a tangled profusion of vines climbing up one entire wall. Pretty, but dingy-looking at the same time.

  He wondered again about her finances. How much money could a tour guide operator make? How much did her family rely on her? The mother was the talk of the town—the poor relation to the wealthy cousin living in the Winter Garden House.

  He began to see the possibilities. Perhaps Jade had gone on this stealing spree to support her unusual family, from the man-hopping mother to the self-absorbed actress sister in New York to the old voodoo priestess aunt. It sounded like her mother liked to live the good life. With Jade’s father’s job as a bartender, perhaps that lifestyle had come at too high a cost.

  Now, with Jade’s mother having married some guy and gone off on a cruise, maybe Jade wouldn’t be on the hook for everyone else. Supporting herself on a tour guide’s salary shouldn’t be difficult. Maybe she could give up her other, illegal life.

  Like she’d give it up for him? A near-stranger? A man who’d left her naked and helpless in a hotel room?

  Fat friggin’ chance.

  Still, the thought that Jade had done what she’d done to help her family made it slightly less awful to imagine. Maybe even more forgivable. And for some crazy reason, he found himself wanting to forgive her.

  Entering Jade’s ground-floor home as quietly as…well, a burglar, he found himself in a dark living room. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the low light, provided by a single lamp lit deeper inside the apartment.

  The hint of light cast en
ough of a glimmer to let him get a quick layout of the room. Sofas and loveseats, one would think. But not for Jade. She had a few groupings of uncomfortable-looking chairs, but the center of the room was dominated by, of all things, a fountain.

  He groaned. Ryan never wanted to look at another fountain again as long as he lived. But he couldn’t help giving it a second glance. Talk about your unusual room décor. This one looked like it should have been outside, in a garden. Or, considering the crying angels, maybe even in a graveyard.

  The woman had issues.

  Moving further into the apartment, he again noticed that, though clean and colorful, Jade’s home didn’t offer much in the way of standard comforts. He didn’t see a television. No stereo. In the kitchen, he found only the basics, devoid of any fancy appliances—no dishwasher at all.

  “So where do you stash the good stuff, Jade?” he whispered.

  He turned to leave the kitchen, determined to find out, and was shocked to see two white eyes staring back at him from about five feet above the floor.

  He blinked. Looked again. They were still there.

  “I’m not seeing this.”

  The eyes spoke. “Don’ min’ me, Mr. Tief. No silver, no jewels, but don’ take my word. You go ahead an’ look around.”

  Holy shit. He knew without a doubt who was speaking to him. Not a ghost. This was the voodoo witch. The one Tally had been talking about at the party. “It’s not what you think…”

  “How you know what I tink?” Her voice held a rhythmic cadence and her words rolled off her tongue, hinting of island secrets and mysteries.

  “I’m not a thief.”

  Hearing a click, he was caught off guard when she turned on the overhead light. The sharp illumination hurt his darkness-accustomed eyes, and he had to close them.

  He was nervous about reopening them, wondering what he’d see. If he had to be discovered, he’d almost prefer to be caught by a gun-toting redneck than a witch.

  Finally he steeled himself for anything—including shrunken heads or chicken claws around her neck—and opened his eyes.

  She grinned.