Golden's Rule

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Golden's Rule Page 7

by Billi Jean


  She tasted like red wine and spicy pasta and he’d never tasted anything as good as Beauty in his life. Sensations he’d never felt—warmth, rightness, possessiveness—beat at him. Mixed with it all, lust swelled along every nerve ending with every dip and glide of his tongue inside her lush mouth. With more willpower than he ever believed he had he slowly pulled up from the sweetness of her lips.

  She blinked green passion-filled eyes up at him and slowly smiled.

  “What was that for?”

  It was that or strip us both bare and make love to you until morning.

  He brushed a blonde wisp of hair off her cheek and couldn’t resist caressing the smooth satin of her skin with his knuckles. “I thought I’d best get that over with before I took matters too far, too fast.”

  Her eyes widened slightly then her smile grew. He swore her eyes danced with laughter.

  “Oh yeah? Well, good thing since I don’t think I’m ready for too far, too fast just yet.”

  He cracked a grin and shook his head at her comeback. She had the most amazing spirit he’d ever seen. “Well, you tell me when, and I’ll make sure to be ready.”

  She didn’t say anything at first, merely killed him with soft caresses of her hand against his chest, then with another of her teasing grins, she said, “Oh, I doubt you’re ever not ready, big guy.”

  It was his turn to blink and she giggled, a sound so foreign to him he frowned at her. She mocked a shiver and pushed him back with a finger against his chest.

  “Oh, scary, very, very scary. I bet that look has gotten you what you want for far too long.”

  She had no idea. Literally. She had no clue who he was, what he could do. And she didn’t fear him one bit. He could sense she knew he was powerful. She’d said she couldn’t sense her power, but she’d told him she was an empath.

  Did she like what she could see beneath the skin? If her teasing was any hint, he thought so. He hoped she did. And he hoped she didn’t sense too deeply into what he held back from everyone. The undercurrent of anger. That anger was noticeably missing with her.

  “Hey? I didn’t mean to—”

  He cut her off with a shake of his head, realising he must have simply been sitting there like an idiot frowning down at her. “You know, I just might have. For way too long, Beauty. You willing to take on the job of culling that much ego?”

  She tipped her head down and hid her expression from him, but not before he saw how her eyes turned haunted.

  “Mmm, well, I might be good at that, but then again, what do I know?” she said sounding like she forced the flippant answer.

  Right. She has no memory, douchebag. Way to push the frightened, vulnerable female.

  “Hey, none of that. Let me go get that wine. And I hate to bring it up, but was that chocolate cake under that round bowl?”

  She gave him a wan attempt at a smile for his lame humour.

  “Huh, I didn’t think you saw the chocolate cake. It might not be any good. The cocoa powder had some seriously questionable colour to it and your flour was sad.”

  His flour was sad? He grinned. “It can’t be better than what I already had for dessert, but I guess it’ll have to do for now.”

  He swore she breathed out a whoa under her breath but he didn’t let it go to his head. Either head. Instead, he lingered a hand over her slender arm and stood to fetch the wine and dessert before he did something he shouldn’t.

  Beauty took a deep breath and held it watching Torque walk away. Had he just kissed her? Oh yeah, he had. So thoroughly, she could still feel the soft caress of his lips and the rough abrasion of his whiskers against her skin. Delicious didn’t even begin to describe it or him. The book lay forgotten in her lap, and instead of wanting to dive into the unusual script, she wanted him, diving into her. Just thinking of such a thing had her temperature skyrocketing.

  After several deep breaths, she got her body back under control but had to curl her legs sideways for fear of revealing just how much she wanted him. Had she ever been so in lust before?

  She didn’t know. She stared down at the book in her lap, the words blurring on the parchment. Hell, she didn’t even know if she’d had sex before. Or if she’d ever kissed like that before. That deep instinct she’d felt earlier rose to the top of her consciousness comforting her in an odd way. That instinct said she’d not felt this way before. Not kissed a man like Torque before, nor wanted a man at such a level she burned at his touch. At the same time felt safe by his side, natural, almost normal sitting next to him.

  What did that mean?

  She didn’t know him, but sensed he was an honourable kinda guy. She could see that just at the way he treated her, almost as if he held back from his more direct, warrior nature since she’d subtly told him not to order her around. Well, maybe not so subtly, she thought, suddenly remembering their dinner conversation. Her neck heated but she shook her embarrassment off. She needed to stick up for herself, even with him.

  A chirp of a phone sounded, followed by the sound of his deep voice from the kitchen. His footsteps grew nearer and there he was, striding in with two glasses, another bottle of wine and a huge slice of chocolate cake. Her heart contracted painfully. He was so handsome, so big, and strong. What was she doing here? He was right. She knew no one. She got the impression he was warning her of her situation, but not just her amnesia and all that crazy confusion, but about him as well. Like she shouldn’t trust him. Should she? She watched him juggle his phone between his shoulder and ear, and awkwardly manage to hand her the glasses without the cake falling on her. Another burst of happiness blossomed in her chest. He simply looked so out of his element with the domestic stuff. She bet he threw his clothes on the floor until he ran out, then gathered them all up, and washed them all at once.

  She stood to take the bottle, setting it down while he continued a conversation with someone. If he did, he didn’t appear grungy. In fact, he dressed very nicely. The button-down shirt did odd things to her stomach. Or maybe the thought of unbuttoning it to reveal every glorious inch of his hard body.

  “Yeah, well, that’s great, but I can’t tonight. Tomorrow I’ll come by—”

  He cut off and his frown deepened. He really did have a fierce glare. She pretended to shiver again and moved closer when he snorted a soft laugh. He was warm, so much warmer than she was and he didn’t seem to mind her stealing some of it either. He brushed a wisp of hair off her face and the gesture seemed natural. But why? Why did it feel natural? You don’t know him.

  Whomever he was talking to must have said something else about him leaving, because his brow creased even deeper. She didn’t want him to go, but she didn’t want to be a burden.

  “You can go, I’m fine.” She whispered her words just in case whoever on the other end of the line didn’t know she was here. Immediately his black eyebrows drew down in a frown but he was listening to someone closely, clearly not liking what he heard.

  She poured the wine and handed him a glass, pushing the cake towards him. The slice was missing a huge bite she noticed. He caught her look and pointed to the plate, moving it closer to his side with a look like she’d better not touch.

  A laugh burst free, but she covered her mouth. He followed her every move as she picked her glass up from the elegantly carved wooden table before it left a watermark on the glossy surface. If he didn’t clean, someone certainly did because everything looked polished and well cared for. When he continued to talk she moved away, giving him some space.

  She took a moment to let the comfort of the room ease into her. This room in particular was amazing. The parquet floors were set with a diamond design of dark and lightwood interwoven to create a pleasing flow for the eye to follow. Bookshelves lined every available wall from floor to ceiling. The only walls not filled had enormous windows that would give a pleasing view of the valley and mountains during the day. Even above and around those windows, the spines of texts filled the space. The amount of books stunned her but also soothed he
r. She liked to read, she realised. She more than liked it. The feel of the leather book against her fingertips tingled, as if trying to wake her up to the pleasure found within its beautifully crafted cover.

  “Right, I’ll be there in a few. But I gotta warn you, not much can usually be gleaned from a Fay of that level. If Gregory can’t get him to talk, then I doubt I can do much more. Hell, the guy’s his brother. If Gregory can’t do anything…” He paused and ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “Yeah, no doubt about it, Alrick, but I can’t make a stone bleed, man. You and I both know the lies within lies the Fays weave.”

  ‘Fay’. The words sounded wrong to her. They shouldn’t be lies within lies, it should be plans within plans. The play on words was telling. Torque didn’t hold much respect for the Tuatha Dé Danann. She rubbed her wrist, missing the cold iron woven around her arm.

  Wait. Cold iron? Where had that come from?

  She clutched her glass so tightly the wine sloshed. There should be a shackle on her wrist, a chain clenched in a—she eased off. The pain had slowly built in her back until it felt like a bad sunburn. A wisp of dark hair and blue eyes the colour of the lightest skies flashed through her mind causing a slash of painful loss, but was gone before she could grab hold of it.

  “Beauty?”

  She snapped back to the here and now, nearly spilling her wine in the process. Torque looked worried but when she laughed softly, the intensity of his gaze smoothed somewhat.

  “Yeah? Sorry, just lost in thought.”

  He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked like he wanted to argue that tiny white lie, but she stalled him with a quick question. “You have to go?”

  Whatever he’d been about to say he didn’t. Instead, he nodded curtly. “I won’t be long, but I have to go out for a bit.”

  She set her glass down and nodded. “Sure, I understand. I don’t need a babysitter, really.”

  He tossed his dark hair off his brow and leant down to cage her in with both his powerful arms on either side of her. A sudden rush of excitement flooded her system. She felt tiny compared to him and liked the feeling and ideas that stirred.

  “Beauty, there are many things I want to do to you, but babysit you hadn’t crossed my mind.”

  She barely held in the breathy sigh at his sexy words. Instead, she sat perfectly still, hoping another kiss was in her near future. His lips were inches from hers and she practically squirmed with the urge to close that distance and rub her lips against his, while she felt his roughly bristled jaw with her fingers. She knew he’d feel amazing, but the speed of this scared her. He shouldn’t feel so right. She shouldn’t feel so right with him.

  Should I?

  “Okay,” she finally managed when he simply stood there, bent over her, watching her like that hunter again. “Maybe I’ll read.”

  “You can do whatever you’d like. You should get some sleep though.” He edged closer and her mind went completely blank. “But if you do the dishes, I’ll spank you.”

  She blinked at him, the words not making sense for a complete minute. She wanted his lips on hers, not have to use her brain. Spank her?

  She must have looked shocked because he bent his head and touched his warm lips to her ear in a gentle caress.

  “And I’m sure you’d enjoy that, Beauty, but you might not be ready for that far, that fast, huh?”

  Oh, man.

  He grinned down at her, cocky and sure of himself. Then before she could squeak out a response that no way would she like that, he took her lips.

  This time the kiss felt like a brand, a mark of ownership that heated every fibre of her body and seared along her soul. He slid his tongue in a warm, delicious glide inside her mouth. Chocolate, red wine, and his own spicy flavour intoxicated her. She touched his jaw, whimpering at the feel of his rough whiskers against her fingertips, and let herself sink deeper into his kiss. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, drawing her closer. She threaded her hands through his hair to pull more from the kiss. In response, he moaned huskily against her mouth. The hot, masculine sound made her heart race. He tilted her face and cupped the back of her neck with a warm hand, positioning her, and dived into the kiss, devouring her. There were no other words for it. He simply stole her breath and fed her his with such passion, she nearly climaxed from his dominant kiss alone.

  Slowly, as if loath to end what he’d started, he eased back, breaking the kiss down to a soft, leisurely pace that destroyed her as easily as his passionate kiss had. He broke away, parting from her lips with a final quick, hungry swipe of his tongue over her lips and gently moved his head back to look at her. His eyes were bright, the banked passion in them swirling in his rich light irises.

  “Wait for me.”

  She nodded, slowly letting her limp arms fall down from where she’d circled his neck. Wait for him? Did he think she’d leave now? After that kiss?

  Seemingly satisfied with making her horny as hell, he winked, stood, and stalked out, cake in hand, back down the hall.

  Holy moly, she was in deep because suddenly, that little threat of a spanking sounded better than the cake.

  Chapter Five

  Torque might have taken a tigress by the tail.

  She’d done the dishes.

  He’d walked into the sparkling clean kitchen and stalled out. She’d done the dishes. She’d not only done the dishes, she’d cleaned the entire kitchen. He’d turned on his heel and left the house to jack off twice in the woods before he could dare chance seeing her. If he’d seen her, he would have taken her.

  As it was, he stood, thinking on how damn sexy she was, while he waited for her to finish dressing for dinner. He’d asked her if she’d like to go out and her response had been so damn excited, he’d felt like a jerk for not realising how isolated she was out here. She probably longed to get the hell out of this place.

  “Torque?”

  He turned and the memory slipped from his brain. His heart slammed into his ribs.

  She looked like some fallen angel, complete with gold, shimmery dress that barely hit her upper thighs and revealed a long, firm line of skin down to her golden-toed high heels. He wanted those things on later. The lush valley of her breasts snagged his gaze on his way back up her body but he paced himself, taking her in inch at a time. His body fired up hotter than he could ever remember being. She’d twisted her hair up in a golden-knotted affair that made him think of sex on a beach.

  “How about we skip dinner and stay in?”

  Her question, voiced in that sexy tone, instantly raked delicious fingers down his cock. He jerked his eyes up from where they’d strayed down to her breasts again to study her face. She smiled and walked over, swaying her hips, erotic as hell as she glided on her high heels. As soon as she reached him, she closed the space between them, rose up on her tiptoes, and tugged his head down, shocking the shit out of him with a quick kiss.

  “I’m not weak. I won’t break. I’m not worried. And if you don’t do something about the ache I’ve got going on? I might be forced to go elsewhere.”

  “Fuck that.” He hauled her up against him, the word mine vibrating like a growl between them.

  “Well, I certainly hope you meant me,” she breathed against him.

  I said that aloud, didn’t I?

  She didn’t appear to care about how primitive that was, instead she seemed determined to make her point clear. She trailed her warm hands down his shoulders, to his chest, lingering over his nipples long enough to make him sweat. He liked a woman who played with his nipples. This woman? He fucking loved it. She tipped her head back and met his gaze with a look so sultry his dick jerked against her. A small smile tipped her lips.

  “I hope that’s a yes.”

  “Beauty…”

  “Don’t you dare say something like, we shouldn’t, or we don’t know who you are, or something equally frustrating.”

  She sounded frustrated. He knew he was.

  “We really should wait until we
know—”

  She caressed her hands lower, letting them drift, whisper-like, over his abdomen and suddenly his words ended on a sucked-in breath. She gripped the crown of his cock and squeezed him through the fabric of his slacks. He shuffled his feet wider. Her eyes shone like liquid pools of heat.

  “We really need to do something about this because teasing me is going to get you into serious trouble. I might never know who I am, but I know what I want.”

  He wanted to hear her say it. Hear her say him. He took a handful of her silky hair in his fist and gently tugged her head to the side to whisper against the silk of her throat, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Feel me? It won’t be easy for you.” His size should intimidate her. His aggression should make her cower, instead she laughed.

  “I feel you. I’ve felt you since day one. I want you. You want me. How much more complicated can it be?”

  “Damn.” The breath left him in a rush. She worked his belt loose with some serious skill and he wasn’t stopping her. He wanted this. Her. He’d wanted it from day one. Only now? Now he had no intention of letting her go to Sorcha when he was done with her. She could be one of his—his brain shut down in mid-thought. She would never be one of those women. A toy. She was Beauty. Warm, sweet, sassy, intelligent, and so damn hot her hand scorched his burning erection when she jerked his zipper down and his erection sprang free.

  “Shit, yeah.” He cupped one firm ass cheek and squeezed, but resisted the urge to let go and give the rounded flesh a nice swat. Slow. He’d go slow and easy.

  Below his waist, he felt her circle his flesh with her other hand, tentative, but so warm and sweet he was near to blowing.

 

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