Roarke almost laughed as she dropped her gaze from his. From her body language, he knew she did, and that she had been taught it was wrong. “There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s your body. Why shouldn’t you know every creamy inch, curve, indent, and sensitive spot?”
“Can we…? Ask me something else.”
He lifted a shoulder. “As soon as you answer the question. Do you?”
She kept her gaze averted as she jerked her head up and down once.
“Are you good at it?”
Maya’s hazel eyes clashed with his. “What?”
“Can you make yourself come?”
Exasperated, she asked, “Do you think I’d keep doing it if I couldn’t?”
Her answer caught him by surprise, and Roarke laughed aloud. Her disgruntled expression only added to his amusement. He forced the grin from his face, because he knew his next words would piss her off.
“Show me.”
Maya jumped to her feet. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I want to see how you touch yourself so I’ll know how to touch you when it’s my turn.”
“Why would you care?”
She was honestly puzzled, and Roarke felt the first stirrings of anger for her inconsiderate lover. “I want you to get as much from this as I plan to.”
She couldn’t hold back a snort. “Right.”
He shook his head, but didn’t press the topic. “One of us will be touching you today, Maya. It’s your choice.”
Hot color invaded her cheeks. How was she supposed to choose? It almost seemed easier to let him do it and get it over with than to do something so personal in front of him. However, the thought of his hands on her made her muscles clench. She balled her hands into fists and felt the short nails carve half-moons in her palms. “I’ll do it.”
Roarke watched and tried to remain impassive as she propped pillows against the headboard and lay down. His breath caught in his throat when she parted her legs, and he caught a glimpse of the fine, red-gold curls at the juncture of her thighs. The breath exploded from him in a sharp gasp as she pushed the material aside to slip a finger into her folds.
As he watched, entranced, she began to massage the nubbin shyly peeking out from its hiding place. His eyes flicked to her face, and he saw she was too embarrassed to be aroused. With amusement, he watched her manipulate herself for half a minute before she assumed a twisted expression, shuddered a couple of times, and relaxed.
“Can I go now?”
He laughed. “That performance might fool Bobby, but it won’t work on me. We aren’t leaving until you come—for real this time, please.”
She scowled at him.
“Are you even wet yet?” By the mutinous set of her lips, Roarke knew she planned not to answer. “Shall I find out for myself?” He knew if he touched her he wouldn’t be able to stop, and that wasn’t part of today’s plan. He had no interest in forcing her. He wanted to seduce every one of the lovely Maya’s senses until she was as desperate for him as he was for her.
With renewed determination, Maya pushed her head back into the pillows, resolved to ignore his presence. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensations that coursed through her body as she caressed her clit. Random erotic images flew through her mind as she got wet. She brought a second finger into play to spread the moisture around and explore her deeper regions.
Maya arched her hips off the bed as she touched herself with an expertise born of practice. She grew wetter as her fingers increased their tempo and brought her closer to the brink.
Roarke wiped at the sweat beaded on his forehead as his amazed eyes soaked up every second of her solo show. His manhood throbbed with each beat of his heart, simpatico with each thrust of her hips. He longed to offer his assistance, but knew any reminder of his presence would shatter her passionate haze, and the temporary illusion that they were both here of their own free will. He couldn’t bite back a moan as she completely encased two of her fingers, and her body started to shake. A cry broke from her, and he knew this was no performance.
She blinked when he moaned, suddenly reminded of his presence. She had almost forgotten he was in the room with her. Even the renewed awareness of his presence couldn’t stem the tide of her orgasm as it washed over her. She shook with fulfillment, while tears leaked from her eyes. For a long moment after the last spasm had passed, she lay on the bed and struggled to regain her breath and composure.
Finally, she lifted her head to find his intent gaze fastened on her. She had expected him to leer, or maybe stroke himself from his front-row seat. Instead, he wore a tender expression. She was too tired to analyze it, or play any more games for the day. “I’m leaving now. If you don’t like it, do your worst.”
Roarke glanced at his watch, amazed that an hour had passed. “You’re free to go—until Tuesday.”
“Don’t remind me,” she muttered as she rolled from the bed. She kept her eyes off him as she grabbed her clothes from the floor and rushed into the bathroom. She stripped the teddy off and kicked it across the floor so she could dress in her own clothes. All the while, she attempted to ignore the uncomfortable dampness in her panties. She would shower at home.
On her way out of the bathroom, Maya saw her reflection and froze. She looked embarrassed, but there was also a glow to her cheeks, and a sated look in her eyes. Her entire body felt relaxed, but she frowned when she realized she was still aroused. With a wordless cry, she denied what she saw in the mirror. She wrenched the door open and ran from the apartment without a word spoken to Roarke. She couldn’t outrun the truth though.
As she flagged a taxi and dropped into the back seat, Maya shied away from admitting that part of her—a very small part—had reveled in having an audience. No. She had not enjoyed the role of sexual plaything thrust upon her. She had hated every minute of it. Only the dampness between her thighs countered her vehement denials of pleasure.
Chapter Five
Details
When Maya let herself into the apartment, she was surprised to find Bobby sprawled across the red leather sofa he had spent $3,000 for. She glanced at her watch. It was just past four, although the afternoon seemed to have taken forever. “You’re home early.”
He shrugged. “There was a problem with one of the cameras. Lenny sent us home for the day.”
She frowned. “They let you go for that?”
Bobby shrugged again as he got to his feet. “What happened?”
Maya dropped her keys and purse on the table and deliberately avoided his eyes. “It’s over.”
“You mean he called it off?”
“No. It’s finished for today. I don’t want to talk about it.”
As she turned down the hallway toward the bathroom, Bobby followed her.
“Tell me about it.”
She sighed. “No.”
“You owe it to me to tell—”
She spun around in mid-step, catching him off-guard. “I’m doing this for you, Bobby. Don’t tell me I owe you the details.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry. It’s just…I have to know.”
“Why?”
“Was he better than me?”
She bit her lip, wanting to reassure Bobby, but not willing to set the precedent of divulging the details of her meetings with Roarke. To continue functioning normally, she had to keep those separate from her real life. “Nothing happened today.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t lie.”
“I’m not. He didn’t touch me.”
Bobby put his hand on her arm. “I just wanna know…”
She jerked away. “I told you nothing happened.” Maya stormed to the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. She stripped off her clothes and started the hot water. She had bent forward to gather her hair into a large shower cap when she felt Bobby’s hands on her hips. She stood frozen as he slid his hand down her bottom to touch her intimately. “What are you?” She started to stand, but his hand on her lower back stopped her. “Bobby?”
“Reminding us both,” he said as he stepped closer.
Maya realized he was naked as his erection brushed her thigh. Despite the way her body still tingled with arousal, she wasn’t in the mood. “Not now, Bobby.”
He pulled her up and wrapped his arms around her until her back was pressed against his chest. “I need you, Maya. I have to know you’re still my girl.”
With a sigh, she submitted to his caresses and moaned when he brought his hand up to rub her nipples. His other hand forayed inside her to ease his passage. “You’re so wet.”
It sounded like an accusation. “I didn’t…” She broke off when she decided it wasn’t wise to tell him she hadn’t showered earlier. He would naturally wonder why she had needed a shower if nothing had happened. She sighed when he turned her around and lifted her in his arms. Bobby moved so that she was braced against the wall, and then slid inside her.
Her softness tingled as it accepted his length, and she leaned forward as he filled her. Maya grasped his shoulders and began to thrust with Bobby. She tried not to think of anything that had happened earlier in the afternoon. She managed to ignore her thoughts as Bobby continued to push her bottom against the wall with each deep thrust. She was poised on the brink when she felt his fluid fill her before his erection softened.
Maya could have cried with frustration when he slid out and sat her on the marble tile. She continued to ache for fulfillment, but he already had that sleepy expression he got after making love.
His expression was brooding. “You were wet before I ever touched you.”
She rolled her eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you that he didn’t lay a hand on me?”
“Whatever happened, you liked it.”
Maya turned away from him, too angry to speak.
His tone was still disgruntled when he said, “I bet that wiped away all memories of him.”
Her mouth fell open, and she spun around to face him. “Is that what this was about? You were…” She floundered as she searched for a way to describe what he had done. “Was this about comparison?”
Bobby shook his head and pushed loose strands of hair behind his shoulders. “It’s not like that. I just wanted you to remember what it’s like with someone you love.”
“But he didn’t touch me.” Maya winced at the shrill tone and bit her tongue to hold back a scream.
His expression became sad. “How are we going to get through this if you won’t be honest with me?”
“How am I supposed to do this if you insist on fucking me after each meeting to remind me who I belong to?”
His lower lip protruded. “I don’t like sharing you.”
She tossed her hands up. “Fine with me. I’ll call Thomas and tell him to shove it.”
Bobby’s blue eyes grew dark, and he shook his head. “You can’t. We have to do this.”
She sighed. “Just let me cope in my own way. Don’t ask for details, and don’t make love to me to mark your territory.”
After a pause, he finally nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
Before Maya could respond, he had hopped into her hot shower. She bit back her annoyance and sat on the toilet, knowing Bobby hated to share a shower unless they had sex under the pulsating stream. She wanted to tell him that she didn’t want any of this, but his spontaneous rendition of Another One Bites The Dust made it impossible for her to speak.
When he finally emerged, she was too tired to pursue the conversation. Maya got in the shower and yelped when cold water pelted her. She slid the glass door open a few inches and leaned her head out. “All the hot water is gone.”
Bobby carefully wrapped his long locks in a powder-blue towel. “I noticed that too. Probably because you left the water running.”
She slammed the sliding door closed, satisfied with its protesting thunk and the way it rattled. Maya’s body shook as she tried to control her anger and repress the tears that pricked the back of her eyes. It wasn’t the lack of hot water—or even his ability to always make everything her fault—that made her so angry. It was a combination of the afternoon’s events and his reaction—most especially his refusal to believe Roarke hadn’t touched her. “I thought nothing would change,” she whispered as the hair dryer turned on. She let cold water sluice the hot tears from her cheeks.
Chapter Six
Family Dinner
Roarke bit back a groan when Sam and Lisa made their big announcement. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy for his oldest brother and sister-in-law, but he knew what he and Lenny were both in for as his mother’s teary eyes fastened on the two of them. They sat at the opposite end of the white oak table, and both found their attention suddenly focused on their plates.
“When are you two going to give me grandchildren?”
Lenny’s face reddened with embarrassment. “I’m not even married.”
“It’s no wonder since you never date.”
Roarke shared an amused look with Sam. In point of fact, Lenny dated frequently, but Mom refused to acknowledge his male friends. She had dismissed his being gay as “just a phase.”
To Roarke’s discomfort, her brown eyes, the same shade as his, turned to him. He held up a hand in an attempt to ward off the interrogation. “Don’t start, Mom.”
She shook her head. “You need a woman, son. I want grandkids.”
He pointed to Lisa. “All you have to do is wait a few months.”
Deirdre didn’t pay any attention. “You’re thirty-two-years-old. It’s time you married and settled down.”
“It’s the new millennium. People don’t marry so young these days.” How did she always manage to reduce him to feeling like the same guilty five-year-old who ate the whole blueberry pie she had made for Dad’s birthday?
She shook her head as she pointed to Sam and Lisa herself. “Posh. You marry when you find the right one. It’s as simple as that.”
He sighed. “I haven’t met the right one.” Unbidden, an image of Maya popped into his head, just as quickly followed by the ring on her finger.
“All I’m saying is you have to start looking.”
“Okay, Mom.” Roarke concentrated even harder on the plate and pretended to be completely engrossed in his pot roast and carrots. Deirdre took the hint and dropped the subject.
***
After dinner, Roarke left the Mediterranean-style house, taking a seat on the railing of the porch. He took the script from his inside jacket pocket. It was dog-eared from his many readings. As always, the scenes following the initial encounter between the playboy and the girl did nothing to inspire him. As with most scripts, the passage of time was swift. By the next sex scene, the girl was a willing convert. Roarke felt his mouth twisting, knowing Maya wouldn’t be so easily won over.
Fantasies about all the things he wanted to do with her came easily, but they all seemed too forward this soon into the game. Roarke didn’t want to frighten her with his desire, and he didn’t want her to hate him more than she already did. He had to come up with something for tomorrow’s meeting, but so far nothing he had thought up was the right thing. The sound of the screen door opening had Roarke looking up, hoping it wasn’t Mom coming to continue their discussion. To his relief, it was Sam. “Hey.”
“What are you doing out here all alone?”
Roarke shrugged as he bent the script in half vertically so he could stuff it back in his jacket. “I just wanted to get away.”
The grin teasing Sam’s mouth grew, giving him a boyish look. “From Mom?”
“Maybe.” Roarke’s smile gave his real answer. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
“You ready for fatherhood?”
Sam shrugged, and a hint of doubt showed on his face. “It’s scary.” He leaned against the railing on the other side of the support post. “Ever give it any thought?”
“Nah. I’m too young.”
“Four years younger than me, bud. That’s not too young.” Sam shook his head, which caused his brown curls
to flop. “Mom means well, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Roarke started to put the script away, but Sam took it from him. “Hey.”
“Another movie that’s going to make you millions?” Sam flipped it open before Roarke could grab it back. His eyes widened. “What are these notes?”
Ruddy color swept across Roarke’s cheekbones. “Nothing. Just director’s notes.”
“‘Maya would hate this’.” He flipped the script open to the middle. “‘Possibility once I know Maya better’.”
Sam looked up. “What is this? There’s no Maya listed on the front page.”
He snatched the script from his brother’s fingers and shoved it back in his jacket. “Nothing.”
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon. Spill.”
“Honestly, it’s nothing.”
“Who’s Maya?” His tone was casual, but his questioning eyes were sharp.
“No one. There is no Maya.” Roarke averted his eyes.
“You never could lie very well.” Sam chuckled. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
“She’s just a girl.” A girl I’m completely crazy about. “Nothing important.” Why can’t I stop thinking about her?
Lifting a shoulder, Sam said, “If you say so.”
“She’s driving me nuts.”
Sam quirked a brow. “What?”
“I can’t stop thinking about her—fantasizing about her. She’s in my dreams, dammit.” To Roarke’s surprise, Sam laughed. “You think that’s funny?”
“I never thought I’d see you fall in love.”
“I’m not in love.” He couldn’t be. She belonged to someone else. He had only a tenuous hold on her, and there was no way she could ever love him.
With a snort, Sam clapped him on the back. “I hope Maya realizes how lucky she is.”
“Yeah, she’s in seventh heaven,” Roarke muttered under his breath.
Sam frowned. “Problems?”
“She hates me.”
His eyes widened. “What did you do to make her hate you?”
Playing His Game Page 3
