There's Something About a Rebel-

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There's Something About a Rebel- Page 11

by Anne Oliver


  A muscle in his jaw tightened and he growled through clenched teeth. ‘Go, Lissa. Before I do something we’ll both regret in the morning.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Regrets were not on her agenda. ‘You want me,’ she said, and watched his eyes turn to smoke. ‘And I want you.’

  If they made love, she was going to fall hard. She was risking her heart. But hadn’t her heart been his all along? ‘I’ve always wanted you.’

  She felt him go still beneath her palm. His entire body seemed to turn to stone. That’s right, Blake, think about that not-so-little confession.

  The impact of her words took a moment to sink in. ‘Sweet heaven,’ he groaned softly, and closed his eyes. ‘You were only thirteen last time I saw you. For God’s sake, go. Go now.’

  ‘Blake, what I’m trying to say here is, it’s not a whim,’ she continued. ‘It’s n—’

  ‘Do you realise what would have happened back in that room if Nanna Margaret hadn’t knocked on the door and given me a moment to regain some sense? I’d have taken you where you stood without a moment’s hesitation and to hell with the rest of the world.’

  Lava geysered through her veins and she thought for one moment she might faint with the thrill.

  ‘And with not one damn thought of protection,’ he finished, his voice scraping like rough stone over her senses.

  Her mind spun back to those rumours. The rumours she refused to believe. The rumours she’d condemned only hours ago. But even so, the heat cooled and congealed in her blood because there was one indisputable fact—he had been dating Janine.

  Had he lost control with her? Had he been so driven, so lost, so crazy hot for her that he’d forgotten birth control? Sharp images of his hands, his mouth on the girl’s flesh, that hard masculine unprotected part of him plunging into her where she stood tore at Lissa.

  ‘And now?’ Her throat was clogged, her voice tight. ‘What, you’ve suddenly developed a conscience in the last few minutes?’

  ‘No.’ His eyes blazed. ‘That’s the problem, Lissa. You make me crazy. When I’m with you, when I’m anywhere near you, I don’t have a conscience. And I don’t seem to be able to function rationally.’

  ‘And you need to be in control at all times.’

  His non-answer and the blue flame in his eyes told her all she needed to know, but she could lure him over to the dark side. She could. ‘You’ve been trying not to wonder how this dress comes off all night, haven’t you?’

  Blake didn’t move a muscle. His eyes … it was as if they were glued in place. He could not tear them away from those sun-spangled thighs. The twist of gold and the curves beneath.

  ‘It’s one long strip of fabric,’ she said. ‘Like a scarf. You start at the bottom—or the top—and unwrap it. Like a birthday gift.’

  Birthday gifts? His mother hadn’t believed in such indulgences. Instead he’d been allowed to choose which charity he wanted to donate to. ‘I’m warning you now, I don’t do emotion, Lissa.’

  ‘Fine. We won’t do emotion. We’ll just have sex.’ She stepped out of her shoes.

  Still facing him, she took a backward step, up one stair. Slowly, hypnotically, making the little coins on her dress jingle and drawing his gaze up and over her flat belly and full breasts. It also caused the air around her to eddy, bringing her sweet and sinfully tempting perfume to his nose.

  The reincarnation of Circe, he thought, seducing him with a feast of the senses. Weaving a spell around him with those captivating eyes. Drawing him closer. Making his hand reach out in front of him as if it belonged to someone else.

  But it wasn’t someone else’s fingers that tingled as they touched that warm flesh once more. And it was his hand that burned as it traced an invisible line inside the fabric and up the smooth line of her leg. Ankle, calf, the back of her knee. The long firm length of her outer thigh.

  His fingers retraced their journey down to the tattered hem of her dress and closed over the fabric, knuckles brushing her skin and feeling the quiver run through her like a tiny electric current.

  Need. This ferocious and urgent and soul-deep need … He’d never experienced anything remotely like it. One yank and he could have her naked. Sprawled on the stairs while he plunged into her, her precious innocence gone in a few seconds flat.

  She deserved better. So much better. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at her. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

  A flash of something lit her eyes and a small frown puckered her brow. ‘What do you mean. hurt me?’

  ‘You’re a virgin … and this. this. It isn’t—’

  Her eyes widened. ‘Virgin?’

  ‘You mean you’re not?’ He stared at her while his mind reeled and his whole body tightened.

  ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

  ‘You said … Never mind.’

  ‘Blake.’ A smile stole across her lips. ‘I’m not a virgin. I haven’t been one in quite a while. I’ve had a few lovers in my time—just don’t tell Jared that. You really need to stop thinking of me as that kid you knew.’

  ‘I don’t,’ he muttered, his blood surging south, pulse hammering in his ears. ‘Believe me, I don’t.’

  He wound the lower end of the fabric around his hand, tightened his fingers into a fist and tugged. ‘Come here.’

  But she shook her head. ‘I feel like a swim.’ Her smile was wicked as she stepped past him on the step, twirling a circle as she went, the gold strip unravelling like a streamer behind her.

  She continued whirling across the room towards the patio, shedding any inhibitions he’d thought she had along with her scarf. He saw that she was wearing a tiny triangle of tarnished gold lace, her luscious breasts spilling out of a matching strapless bra.

  She ran out of scarf and jerked to a stop. Blake growled low in his throat and walked towards her, gathering up the fabric. Reeling her in. But before he got within reach she tossed her end to the floor and was off, flinging the patio doors wide.

  Her bare bottom flashed in the light spilling from the house as she danced across the slate tiles. At the edge of the pool she turned and met his gaze. Peeled the bra off and threw it over her shoulder. Slid her hands down her hips, taking her gold thong with them.

  He felt a momentary disappointment that she’d robbed him of the opportunity to perform the task himself, then again, he shrugged. What a view. He breathed out a sigh. Perfection. Every tempting hollow, every inviting curve.

  ‘Stay right where you …’ she smiled at him, then stepped backwards into the water ‘.are,’ he finished.

  She bobbed up again almost immediately, her eyes laughing. ‘Feels good.’ Her voice was as sultry as the night. ‘Don’t you want to feel good, Blake?’

  Oh, yeah. ‘Get out so I can see you.’

  ‘Sure you don’t want to join me in the water?’

  ‘Maybe later.’ He beckoned her. ‘Out. Now.’

  She shrugged and moved to the ladder, climbed out. Water sluiced off her body, leaving droplets clinging to her skin like diamonds, her dripping hair a dark crimson threaded with gold ribbons.

  He didn’t take his eyes off the glorious sight as he quickly stripped down to skin. He saw her eyes widen at the sight of his throbbing erection, felt the hot stroke of her gaze clear across the patio.

  His mouth watered at the sight of her glistening nipples puckered up with the pool’s chill. As he watched water gathered at the rosy tips and dripped onto the slate. Urgency whipped through his body like a loosened high-tension wire in a blustery wind, but he refused to hurry.

  She was the birthday cake he’d never had and he was going to take his own sweet time over her and indulge. Before they were done he was going to sample every delectable square centimetre.

  He stepped onto the soft emerald grass. ‘Come here.’

  She moved towards him with that same stunning grace he’d seen when she’d danced. And then she was there, looking up at him with wide turquoise eyes.

  ‘You’re a tempt
ress, you know that, don’t you?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ She was breathing fast, her breasts rising and falling. ‘Did I tempt you?’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ He smoothed his hands over her damp shoulders.

  She gasped softly at the first contact and her hands slid into his hair. Her musky feminine scent with a hint of chlorine surrounded him, drawing him closer. He lowered his lips to her neck. The taste of her skin was sweet and fresh.

  His hands took a journey over smooth firm breasts. Beneath his palms he felt her hardened nipples. He rolled them between thumbs and forefingers, heard her whisper something as he closed his lips over one perfect bud.

  ‘Touch me again, Blake.’ Her voice had turned from teasing to seriously turned on. She shifted beneath his lips, lifting her hands to tug at pins and ribbons so that her hair fell loose and wet over her shoulders, a wildfire of curls. ‘Come inside me.’

  Her impatience urged him to take her now where they stood and his own need chafed at him but he would not be rushed.

  Lifting his head, he slid his palms over her hips and let his gaze wander. Naked had never looked so perfect and he drank in the sight before him like a man too long between beers. He could feel the need radiating from her like a blush and lifted his gaze to hers.

  Clear eyes stared back at him, drenched with desire, and the air around her shimmered like the gold she’d dusted on her shoulders. His body burned with something more than lust. She was feminine perfection but she was still tiny. And she looked even smaller naked, and so fine-boned and fragile, as if she’d break with one touch.

  ‘Don’t think about whatever it is you’re thinking about,’ Lissa whispered, her heart racing as she leaned forward to place her lips on his chest. Circling his hard male nipples and learning their texture. Bending her head and discovering their taste—salt and sweet and. Blake.

  He groaned with a sound that was part pleasure, part pain. ‘You’re exquisite,’ he muttered with an almost savage growl. ‘And, God … what I want to do with you …’

  Twining her arms about his neck, she looked deep into his eyes. ‘Glad to hear you still feel that way.’

  And then he was sweeping her legs from beneath her and laying her on the softly damp grass. It was like falling endlessly into her dreams.

  Silvery moonshine slanted across one sharp cheekbone as he stared down at her. Then darkness as his head blocked the light and his mouth closed over hers with a deep desperate kiss that told her he was as lost in the moment as she.

  Her water-chilled, droplet-covered body all but steamed against the heat of his skin. She revelled in his rich, dark taste, her tongue sliding against his as she traced the hard planes of his shoulders with her fingertips, the bunched muscles of his upper arms. Loving the rasp of masculine hair against her breasts, her belly.

  The hard hot length of his masculinity surged against her hip, but he made no move to use it. He lifted his head and watched his hand as he stroked a slow path from her neck and over one tingling nipple, then lower, to circle her navel with one feather-light fingertip. Her body arched instinctively against his touch like a flower searching for sunlight.

  She held her breath. ‘Oh, yes.’ Finally, finally, oh. Her thighs fell open and she heard herself moan, closed her eyes and prepared to give herself up to the ultimate sensation for the second time in less than an hour.

  ‘So hot,’ he murmured as he opened her and pushed a finger inside her. ‘So wet for me.’

  His last possessive words and their simple truth squeezed at her heart. ‘Yes,’ she murmured back. Only for you.

  Gentle. She’d never experienced such gentleness. She could feel the strength and the tension hum through his body and knew he was holding back. Unlike Todd who’d always raced to the finish without a thought for her needs. And unlike the man who’d betrayed her, she trusted Blake, wanted him to lose that control, wanted that heat and strength inside her. ‘Blake … now.’

  Eyes still closed, she trembled, poised on the thin edge between anticipation and something like fear. Fear that he’d stop.

  He did. Then he swore, a strangled sound that had her opening her eyes. His expression was frozen. ‘Protection.’

  ‘I’m on the pill,’ she gasped. ‘I take care of my own.’

  ‘My kind of girl,’ he muttered and lowered himself slowly on top of her.

  He slid inside her in one long smooth motion and her entire being quivered with the new intimacy. The pressure invaded her, expanding and radiating to every part of her body in a thousand glorious explosions and sending her hurtling towards climax.

  The shock of the speed staggered her and she opened her eyes so she could see him, to know it was him inside her as she crested that stunning peak. His jaw was tight, his face almost grim with intensity as he watched her fly away.

  ‘Blake,’ she whispered. The tension spiralled then snapped and she felt her limbs grow limp, sated. She’d been waiting her whole life for this moment. Welcome home.

  But, oh.no. She couldn’t let herself think that way. She’d told him herself that it was just sex. His home, and his emotionless life, were on the ocean.

  Still. his eyes glittered like fire in the dimness as he moved inside her. And, at last, at long last, she was the woman who’d made them turn to indigo.

  She was the woman whose hands skimmed that hot, taut skin, whose legs were wrapped around those powerful thighs as he plunged deeper, faster. She was the woman who arched against him as he found his own climax. He dropped down beside her and she cradled his head against her breast in the aftermath.

  ‘Lissa …’ Her name, murmured in that deep voice, curled around her like a sigh and told her more than he’d ever say.

  So she could enjoy the masculine texture of his jaw against her breast a little while longer, she touched the side of his face and smiled to herself while the night’s tiny wildlife rustled nearby. She could smell the fragrance of the new-mown grass, feel its soft scratchiness against her skin.

  The sky was alive with stars, and, in the east, the waning moon on its ascent. Her life with all its twists and turns was suddenly, and for the moment at least, perfect.

  He looked up at her, eyes searching hers. ‘No regrets?’

  ‘Not one.’ She traced his eyebrows. ‘You?’

  He stroked a finger over her nipple, watched it pucker. ‘You were amazing.’

  Which didn’t answer her question, but he was the master of evasion and she wasn’t about to spoil it, especially when she felt him harden again against her hip. Already. ‘It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it?’

  ‘So …’ He leaned up on one elbow. His eyes were the colour of smoke and he smiled a wicked sailor’s smile as he curled one hand around the back of her neck. ‘What do you say we do it again? In a bed this time?’

  ‘Or the pool.’

  ‘I like the way you think.’ He rose, sweeping her up with him and heading to the water. ‘We’ve got all night. We can enjoy both.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  YOU had to worship a man who brought you breakfast in bed on a silver tray after a night of carnal pleasure, especially if he was naked and built like a bronzed god. A bowl of fruit, poached eggs—hard—with toast and jam to follow. In addition to his pot of tea, he’d made her an instant coffee. She’d have preferred her early morning latté but he’d not familiarised himself with that piece of kitchen technology. And it wasn’t early. It was well after midday.

  ‘So what made you think I was a virgin?’ she asked, around a mouthful of mango.

  He grinned at her. ‘Could be because you mentioned “after all this time” the first time I kissed you.’

  She smiled, took another bite. ‘That’s because I’d only been waiting years and couldn’t believe you were attracted to me.’

  Blake leaned forward, licked the juice from her mouth. ‘Believe it.’ He smoothed her back and studied her. She wore the smile of a well-satisfied woman. ‘You know, you have the most beautiful eyes I ever saw.’ He hesitated. ‘
But sometimes … there’s something there … like last night, when I hauled you into the bathroom at Gilda’s.’

  Her smile dropped away. ‘I was surprised, that’s all.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not all.’

  Something didn’t fit with her normally casual, easy-going style. And he was absolutely, one-hundred-per-cent through seeing that startled, hunted look that stole into her eyes at odd times. All the more concerning when she was usually warm, willing and with him on so many levels.

  A man, he was sure of it. ‘What happened, Lissa? Who hurt you?’

  ‘No one important.’ Her eyes turned dull, flat. Distant.

  A knot tightened in his chest. He touched her chin lightly and turned her head so she had no choice but to face him. ‘What did he do? Tell me,’ he demanded, when she didn’t reply.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Would you rather I asked your brother?’

  She stiffened, her eyes widening. ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘If it helped, yes, I damn well would.’

  ‘Jared doesn’t know anything about him and I want to keep it that way.’ She pushed his hand away. ‘I’m not a kid and I don’t need him or anyone else to fight my battles. He was a guy I met a year ago. Todd. We had a relationship.’ Hesitation. ‘An abusive relationship. He got a real kick out of seeing me scared.’

  Anger didn’t begin to describe what boiled up inside him as he looked at Lissa. So small and delicate. So vulnerable to the wrong sort. What cowardly scum got off on scaring a woman who’d put her trust in him? Worse, Lissa had called him abusive. What else had the low-life done?

  Blake didn’t need her to tell him. His imagination filled in the rest. ‘The bastard.’

  ‘That’s what I told the cops. There was a restraining order. Haven’t seen him for months. Last I heard he’d moved interstate.’

  ‘You should’ve told Jared.’

  She shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Yes.’ He cupped her cheeks in both palms. ‘Why the hell not?’

  ‘Because I told you. We had a disagreement.’ Her voice was clipped. Angry. Hurting. ‘He’s made a point of not coming here unless specifically invited ever since.’ Her eyes filled with moisture. ‘And there’s a distance between us that was never there before.’

 

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