“You told me, and I believed you about that part. But why would you say that shit about those scumbag websites? It’s like you were specifically trying to hurt me by dreaming up something so ridiculous—”
“No,” she exclaimed heatedly, her head coming up from the side of the chair.
“Shhh, calm down,” he soothed, running his hand up her spine and urging her gently to relax again. She lowered her head, but he felt with the hand at her back that she panted in agitation.
“I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she insisted. “I thought maybe it’d… interest you.”
“Interest me?” he asked, his voice sounding flat from incredulity. “Why would it interest me, the idea of you—of all people—making yourself so vulnerable to those bloodsucking lowlifes?”
“You don’t know that they’re all lowlifes.”
“Yeah. I do.”
She went slack in his lap.
“Ursa? What the hell is going on with you? You’re starting to really worry me. Just tell me the truth, baby girl.”
Her moan sounded miserable.
“Z, don’t you get that you come off like a dominant guy? Sexually, I mean. I wasn’t lying about having a… you know… A thing for dominant males.” She made a sound of acute frustration. His concern mounted.
“Ursa?”
“Damn it, Z, I slept with you. I know what you’re like in bed.” Her jag of laughter sounded a little hysterical. “Now I’m lying in your lap and my butt’s burning from you spanking me! Are you really going to tell me you don’t consider yourself a dominant sexually?”
He closed his eyes briefly as realization hit.
“Do you really think that if you were right about that, the way to get to me would be by revealing that you made yourself prey on one of those websites?”
“You already know I didn’t do it. You know I lied about it!” she cried out desperately.
She struggled in his lap to get up, brushing repeatedly against his erection.
Then she kneed him in the crotch.
Cursing, he firmed his hold on her, forcing her into immobility.
“Hold still for a second. Damn it, Ursa, I mean it,” he shouted when she continued to struggle.
“Why are you trying to humiliate me?”
“I would never try to humiliate you,” he insisted, blistered by her accusation.
“Oh no. You just force me to admit the real reason I lied about those websites. You make me say that I used to go to those websites and fantasize what it would be like to be with a dominant guy. Not just any dominant guy. You. And then you tell me that you’re actually disgusted by those sites, and disgusted by the idea of me being turned on by them, and—”
She shrieked when he abruptly put his forearms beneath her and scooped her into his arms. He lifted and turned her, ignoring all the long, silky hair in his face.
A few chaotic seconds later, she sat sideways in his lap. Beneath the tousled curtain of her hair, he saw she’d been stunned into speechlessness by his abrupt action.
Very gently, he parted her long hair and smoothed it away from her face. Beneath it, he saw that she was very flushed. A few tears dampened her pink cheeks. Her green eyes glistened.
“The idea of you being turned on by dominant-submissive sex play doesn’t turn me off, Ursa. Far from it.”
He caressed her cheek softly, wetting his fingertips with her tears.
“It doesn’t?” she asked uncertainly after a stunned pause.
He shook his head, holding her stare.
“And you would never disgust me. Not in a million years.”
Her expression broke. More tears wet his fingertips. “But you said my lie was cruel. And you were so mad at me.”
He winced. God, how had this gotten so out of control? She may have the fantasies of an experienced woman, and she may have the kind of natural sensuality most men only dreamed about…
But she still was an innocent little lamb.
An innocent little lamb that currently sat bare-assed in his lap. He imagined he felt her aroused sex through his jeans.
He put his hands beneath her armpits and hoisted. “Stand up,” he urged gruffly.
“But—”
“It’s okay,” he assured, steadying her until she found her feet. “I want to try to explain something, and I can’t when—”
Your hot, pink ass is in my lap, and your sweet little pussy is burning a hole into my thigh.
Chapter Ten
He steadied her on her feet, and then stood next to her.
“Z.”
Her plaintive whisper cut at him as he bent and grabbed her panties. The moment before he whisked them over her hips, he stared directly at her outer sex, his nose just inches away from heaven. He shut his eyes like he’d been burned, reaching for her jeans blind.
A few seconds later, she stood in front of him fully dressed…If that’s what you called her in that Jezebel-outfit, anyway.
“Was that…was that it?” she asked him shakily. “We’re finished?”
Her green eyes looked huge and confused. He exhaled, privately begging for patience and strength. Damn it, this was hard. He couldn’t imagine struggling through this for any other woman.
But this was Ursa.
He took her hand.
“We’re finished with that, yeah. Come over here. I want to talk to you about something.”
He sat down on the couch in the seating area of his office. She came down next to him when he pulled on her hand. He averted his gaze from her wide eyes and flushed cheeks and lips.
“Ursa…”
He ground his teeth together. Damn it, he wasn’t good at talking to people. He wasn’t good at hashing out things that mattered. “First of all, I’m not what you think I am. I’m not like those guys who makes out like their some kind of BDSM master or something. I’m just…me. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“You haven’t disappointed me. I didn’t really think you were a cliché, like on those websites or books. I just knew…” Her already pink cheeks flushed red and she turned her head away fro him. Damn, I cant’ believe I’m having a conversation like this with Ursa, of all people. Still, her discomfort appeared even worse than his. So he muddled on, for her sake.
“I admit, I was mad at you for lying to me about something so big. Guys who go on those websites really can be bloodsucking lowlifes. Worse. Some are dangerous. I’m not exaggerating when I say that. And I was pissed at you for dressing the way you did, and flirting with that idiot Luke, just to goad me into seeing red. But I wasn’t trying to force you into confessing your private desires by spanking you. If it had been anyone else who told me they got turned on by looking at profiles on some BDSM or biker sites, I’d just shrug it off. Everyone has a right to their thing, as long as they’re aren’t breaking any laws or hurting anyone.”
“Everyone but me. Is that what you’re saying?”
He started, his mouth hanging open at her simple, innocent question. Seemingly innocent.
“No, of course not. You aren’t any different than anyone else in the world.”
He blinked, the truth of his own words ringing in his ears. She stared back at him, all her hesitation and uncertainty vanished. Here again was the calm girl that had always seemed eerily beyond her years.
“If I’m not different than anyone else in the world, if I have a right to express my sexuality any way I want, then how come you keep shutting me down?”
He recognized he was trapped, good and certain. Somehow, the lamb had snared the wolf.
“Is it because you don’t find me attractive?” she persisted.
He exhaled in rough incredulity.
“Z?”
“Damn it Ursa, you must know I want to eat you alive,” he bit out between clenched teeth.
“But it turned you
off. It made you mad, knowing I’d been to those websites.”
“Wrong. It pissed me off, thinking of you actually putting yourself on them,” he corrected angrily. “Fantasizing about something is one thing, but damn it…I’m not kidding, Ursa. You could run into some serious losers and potentially dangerous situations, hooking up with one of those guys. I don’t know what to do to make you under—”
“I do understand, Z. I agree.”
Relief swept through him. “You’re serious? You believe me?”
“Yeah. I kind of suspected the reality behind the fantasy could potentially be risky. Awful, even. That’s why I never actually put up a profile.”
“Thank God,” he muttered, rubbing the tension out of his forehead. He glanced over at her anxiously when she didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.
“You haven’t said anything about what else I told you…about why I think I have those fantasies about dominant men,” she said.
He just stared at her, his breath burning in his lungs.
“It’s because of you, Z. I knew, deep down, that you weren’t some cliché dominant. You’re the real thing. It was you that epitomized the idea for me in the first place. It was you that made me curious, and look at those websites. I knew that after being with you in Reno. I want to be with you, more than just that one time. That’s why I came to Columbia. I’m sorry I don’t have very much experience in seducing people, and that I messed it up.”
Her openness, her innocent honesty, her unhesitating sweetness, undid him. Nobody had ever talked to him this way.
Except her, that is. Ursa had always been sweet and unguarded with him. Not on explosive topics like this, though.
“Ursa—”
“It’s okay,” she said abruptly, wincing slightly and closing her eyes. Shit. She’d seen his doubt. “I get it. It’s too much for you. It’s too much for me to ask, for you to see me differently.”
“It’s you, Ursa.” He grabbed her hand, willing her to understand. “God, I was there when you were born.”
She gave him a swift, hot glance. “But I’m not a baby anymore, Z.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Still, part of him protested. Doubted. “It just seems…indecent somehow.”
“Do you think I’m indecent?”
“No!”
“Then you think you are?”
“Maybe,” he countered defensively, fighting in the trap in which she’d so effortlessly caught him. “When it comes to you, indecent is a good way to describe what I’ve been feeling like lately.”
“Everyone has a right to their desires, as long as no one is getting hurt,” she said, paraphrasing his own words. His jaw tightened in reflexive stubbornness.
She sighed, and he sensed her defeat.
“I suppose you want me to go,” she mumbled.
“I think it’d be best,” he lied. He didn’t really have any idea what he thought at that point. He felt like he’d been clobbered in the head. “You’re not planning on driving back to Nevada tonight, are you?”
“No. I’m staying at the Motor Lodge,” she stated flatly. “I’ll drive up to Tahoe Shores in the morning.”
“Remember, I’d prefer none of the people from home know about my business or that you’ve been here.”
She just nodded and stood. He felt like a dick for bringing it up. Of course she wasn’t going to go back on her word. Ursa may be unrecognizable to him at moments, but she hadn’t changed about something as fundamental as that.
“I’ll walk you out to your car.”
“No,” she said abruptly, still not meeting his gaze. “I think it’d be best if we just put an end to this now. See you around, Z.”
He watched her go, his chest aching with so many confusing thoughts…so many choked-off desires.
Chapter Eleven
When she went to bed alone that night, Ursa had never felt so lonely.
She’d never felt so defeated.
Even though he’d admitted he’d wanted her, Z clearly believed, down to his very bones, that a sexual relationship—any kind of relationship, beyond their old familiar one—was wrong.
Indecent.
She winced and turned over in bed for the tenth time, the memory of him saying that word paining her yet again.
Had she made a fool of herself in front of him? Stupid question. Of course she had. She’d thrown herself at him, and hadn’t taken the message when he’d rejected her not once, but several times.
Oh my God. How am I ever going to look him in the face again?
She was suffering through that mortifying thought when she heard the distant, low purr of a motorcycle engine. She held her breath, listening. Was it growing closer? The purr—now a growl—abruptly stopped.
An anxious minute later, she heard a knock at the door on her hotel room door. She sat bolt upright in bed. It can’t be. But the sound of an approaching motorcycle, plus the bold, matter-of-fact triple knock hinted that it was.
She rushed to the door, frantically tying the sash of her robe and panting just from crossing the room.
Her breath froze in her lungs when she looked through the peephole and saw the distorted image of Z standing outside. She caught a flash of his white T-shirt covered by black leather. He stared to the right of the door, his expression fixed and …
Determined?
She fumbled with the lock and threw the door open. They just stared at each other for a moment, in which Ursa forgot to breathe.
“Hi,” she finally managed, the sound like a hiccup popping out of her throat.
“Can I come in?”
She nodded and backed away from the door, making room for his formidable presence.
He slammed the door and looked around, his expression stony.
“So this is the Motor Lodge.”
She gave a little bark of anxious laughter and also glanced around the comfortable and clean, but plain hotel room.
“Yeah. Fancy stuff, huh? You’ve never been here before?”
He gave her a sharp glance, his blue eyes dropping over the length of her. She felt heat rush into her cheeks and chest. She’d meant the question to be casual chit-chat…breaking the ice, and all. But she saw how it could be interpreted as her asking him if he’d ever hooked up with a woman in this particular local hotel.
“Can we talk?” he asked, ignoring her stupid question and nodding at a loveseat and chair at the side at the bed.
“Sure.”
She took a seat on the loveseat, wondering if he’d sit next to her. He didn’t. She watched nervously as he lowered his large frame into the armchair.
He placed his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers together. Ursa waited in an agony of anticipation while he seemed to gather his thoughts. Would whatever he said make her less miserable?
Or more so?
“The answer to your question is no,” he said.
She started. “Excuse me?”
“I’ve never been to this hotel. I’ve never been to any hotel in Columbia.” He met her stare, blue eyes blazing in his otherwise stoic face. “I haven’t been with a woman—except for you—since I left rehab last February.”
“Oh,” she muttered, confused by the turn of the conversation, and then pleasantly surprised. She swallowed uneasily.
“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.
“Because I thought you should know. I thought maybe it would explain why I came on so strong, that day in your apartment.”
“You’re saying what happened between us was because you were—”
“Sex starved?” he asked wryly, his firm, stern mouth slanting with dissatisfaction. “I thought maybe that was a major component. I thought maybe that’s why all of a sudden I was having all these sexual thoughts about you, when I—”
“Never had before?” she fi
nished for him softly.
He frowned slightly, his sensual mouth highlighted by the near black, severe goatee he wore. But he didn’t deny what she’d asked.
“Did you think I didn’t know that you’d never considered me in a sexual light before?” she asked.
“I don’t know. I never thought about it, to be honest.”
“I was easily disregarded,” she clarified, bracing herself against the hurt.
“No, Ursa,” he insisted, scowling now. “I’m saying that I cared about you, and I always felt…warmly about you.”
“Warmly?” she repeated, frowning.
“Yes. It’s not a bad thing. I was always glad to see your face. Your smile,” he said more slowly, like he was choosing his words with great care. She felt her heartbeat begin to throb gently against her breastbone. “If you had called and you’d needed something, I would have dropped whatever I was doing and been there.”
“I know that, Z. I would do the same for you. I hope you know that.”
“I do,” he said, his mouth clamping tight for a few seconds. He cleared his throat gruffly. “Anyway, all that stuff I was thinking about why it happened…in your apartment, or why I went bat-shit when I saw you dressed like you were tonight…it’s not true.”
“What?”
He grimaced. “I thought about it, after you left tonight. I mean, I’m sex starved, all right. It’s not easy for me, abstaining. It’s not my normal operating procedure.”
“I know that,” she assured. He gave her a quick glance, frowning at her quick reply.
“You think I’m that bad? Some kind of sex addict, or something?”
She laughed helplessly. “I don’t think you’re a sex addict, no. But come on, Z,” she murmured, giving him a forbearing glance. “I grew up next to you. I saw you with dozens and dozens of girls over the years. I grew up listening to Esme’s and Sadie’s stories about you in high school, even though they must have been highly editing the content for their little sister’s ears,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Point being, I know your m.o. I realize you’re used to having a woman—women—in your everyday life. I’m not casting blame for it.”
Wild, Wounded Hearts Page 9
