CardsNeverLie (10 page)

Their next stop was a booth containing metal manacles
covered with fine black leather on the cuffs and a display of whips and leather
outfits of the sort popular with conference-goers. Tommy Joe removed a
blood-red two-foot whip and flashed it through the air. Melanie jerked back at
the crack.

He grinned. “Satisfying, isn’t it?”

Melanie swallowed. Her palms began to sweat.

Tommy Joe put it back and picked up a pair of manacles. She
took a step back. “What are you thinking of doing with those?” she asked,
coughing to cover up the squeak that entered her voice at the sight of him
fondling the cuffs.

“They’re the comfortable kind,” Tommy Joe said, opening one
of the cuffs.

“Great,” Melanie said, taking a step into the deserted
booth, in the hopes no one would notice them messing with the merchandise.
Tommy Joe followed her in.

“Let me try it on you for size,” he teased, touching her
wrist with the open cuff.

Melanie grabbed it from him. “I don’t think so. You first.”
Bondage? What would come next? Was her reading coming true? Is this what life
was like when you tried to live on the wild side?

Tommy Joe’s eyes glittered as he stepped back against a
support pole at the edge of the booth. The backdrop in the booth was a dark red
and Tommy Joe, in his black leather and mesh clothing, looked like a weird
medieval sacrifice against it.

Melanie dropped her purse next to the counter then leaned
behind the post and snapped one of the cuffs around his wrist. Maybe she should
call the cops on him after she locked him up but they would probably laugh at
her. Goody-Two-Shoes Melanie, failed wild thing. Oh what the hell. She shoved
her inhibitions into the back of her mental closet and teased, “Think there’s a
key in here?”

“I didn’t think of that,” Tommy Joe said. “Do you care?” His
attention focused completely on her. She stared at his red lips as he licked
them. A bead of sweat formed at one of his temples.

Melanie smiled, feeling her feminine power. “Not really.”
She dared herself to snap the other cuff closed then stood back. “Done.”

She glanced over to the display and saw a key hanging on it
along with three more sets of cuffs. She let out her breath, not realizing she
had been holding it. When she stepped back to grab the key, Tommy Joe stretched
out his leg and hooked it around one of hers, pulling her toward him.

She crashed against his body and he stiffened to hold her
weight. She could feel heat radiating through the leather of his pants from his
groin. As she looked at his face, he licked his lips again.

“Kiss me,” he said in a hoarse voice. She knew, under the
circumstances, she had to obey. Was this the black magic? She felt glued to
him, to his heat. Melanie leaned forward and hooked her hands into his pockets,
framing his erection with her fingers and touched her lips to his.

Applause rang out behind her. Melanie whipped around and
saw, to her horror, one of the cameramen. He was filming, she could see the
green light by the lens.

“Honey Luscious!” a dancer shrieked and another man, who she
recognized with a sinking feeling as her gladiator from the night before, let
out a catcall.

“I knew it was you!” he pointed at her.

Melanie looked at Tommy Joe, paralyzed by the manacles and
the obvious erection straining at the seams of the leather pants molded to his
lean body.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to get you into
this.” A slow grin lit up his face. His erection didn’t subside. Could he be
enjoying this?

“Don’t stop!” someone called out. “You go, girl!” another
screamed. “Take it off.” The crowd got larger. Someone started a chant. “Honey!
Honey!” Melanie saw the Magellan sisters join the group.

Melanie took a deep, shuddering breath and reached for the
key, facing away from the crowd. She had to get Tommy Joe loose. What if
someone noticed the other bulge in the front of his leather pants was the
stolen massage oil? Forgetting her purse was on the ground, she caught her foot
in the strap and tripped over it, turning halfway around as she grabbed the
edge of the counter for balance. She missed it and grabbed an ebony whip
instead. The whole pegboard started to give as she struggled to stay on her
feet.

As she looked up, fighting gravity, she saw Rob Black on the
edge of the crowd, his face a blank mask. How could he appear so outwardly calm
yet radiate anger? Her hands scrambled for purchase against the counter and her
nose nearly touched the logo stamped onto the display stand. Her eyes crossed
as she noticed the anvil with the word above it. LeatherWorks. She closed her
eyes then opened them. It couldn’t be. Rob’s booth. Oh no.

Melanie turned beseeching eyes to Tommy Joe, begging him to
forgive her, and ran.

Rob watched the scene with disbelief. She had been so sure
of herself in her denials that she was Honey Luscious, but if she wasn’t, what
on earth was she doing in his booth kissing some manacled demon with a hard-on?
The mob crowed its approval of her actions and he saw a camera off to the
right.

He knew porn movies were low budget, but this was
ridiculous. They didn’t have permission to use his booth. He took a step into
the crowd to yell at the cameraman and stepped on someone’s foot. He looked up
to apologize and saw that he had stepped on the foot of Melanie’s gladiator buddy.
The guy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Rob wondered what his problem was
then saw Melanie staring at him. What was she doing bent over his whip display?
Surely no one was going to use one of his fine products on her. He pushed the
gladiator-guy out of the way and moved toward her. Melanie was standing now,
looking frightened.

Rob said, “Are you okay?” but in the noise of the crowd, he
knew she wouldn’t be able to hear. Her next move startled him. Her eyes darted
in an arc around the crowd then back to the manacled guy, who appeared to be
having the time of his life, then rested on him for a second. A moment later,
she ran.

She pushed her way through the crowd at its thinnest edge.
Rob reached for her hand but missed by a mile and he saw the gladiator-guy
reach for her too. He hadn’t seen Drew Huntley around tonight and hoped he
wasn’t present to see what she was up to. Melanie dashed down the corridor. Rob
stepped slowly out of the crowd. He was afraid if he ran after her, so would
everyone else.

Slowly walking away, he pulled out his cell phone and called
Tim’s room. Tim didn’t answer so he spoke to voice mail. “Get down to the
booth. There’s a guy manacled to a post in there and also a big mess. You said
these conferences were an unholy blast, Tim. I guess they are for some people.”

Once he was out of view of the crowd, he broke into a jog.
As he came out of the trade show he looked left and right. He was pretty sure
Melanie would be down by the elevators, but when he got there, he couldn’t see
her. Then he checked the escalator to the mezzanine level. Bingo. He saw a
flash of her red dress and blonde hair merging with the hungry crowd near Grub
and Gauntlet.

Rob took the escalator three steps at a time, using his arms
to propel himself upward. When he reached the bottom he craned his neck. At
six-foot four, he could see over the heads of most people and he saw her up
ahead.

He wove through the crowd and finally caught up with her at
the elevator bank at one end. She flinched as he grabbed her arm.

“Sorry!” he said, seeing the real fear on her face. “I
shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re damn right,” she snapped.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve trashing my booth and filming a
movie in it.”

She gasped and opened her mouth then shut it. “I didn’t know
anyone was filming us.”

“Really,” he said sarcastically. “What did you think they
were doing? Sunning themselves by the light on the camera?”

“No one was there when we went in and I didn’t know it was
your booth.”

“What does that matter?”

Her eyes glinted. Rob wondered if she was going to start
crying. “I just wanted to buy some massage oil at the Shari by Seatac booth.”

“What’s that got to do with my booth?”

“We went there next. Tommy Joe wanted to look around.”

“Tommy Joe?” Rob asked.

“My coworker,” she said sheepishly.

“So was that the guy you had manacled to my booth?”

Melanie bit her lip. “He was really enjoying it.”

“Weren’t you?”

She gave him a weak smile. “It had its moments, mostly
because I was mad at him.”

“How come?”

She looked down at the ground. “It isn’t important.”

Rob wondered what she was hiding. “Is he a porn star too?”

Her chin jutted out. “I’m not a porn star. I’ve never been
in any kind of movie.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Yeah, every actress gets the jitters and runs off her set.
Why can’t you believe me?”

“Why does it matter what I think?” Melanie took a deep
breath. Rob watched as her cleavage nearly expanded out of the sexy siren’s
dress she wore. The dress would live on in his fantasies.

“You really are gorgeous,” he said, almost to himself, but
he realized she heard him.

“Thanks,” she said in a way that made him wonder how often
she really heard anyone such words. Which was funny, because she was so
impossibly beautiful you’d think guys would be stopping their cars on the
street and yelling compliments out of their windows at her.

“You know,” he said, closing the distance between them. “You
don’t have to manacle a man to a post to get him to kiss you.”

“That isn’t why I did it,” she protested. Rob leaned toward
her and she took a step back, coming up against a wall. He put his hand on the
wall next to her face.

“What would it take to get you to chain me up?” he asked,
his voice hoarse. She bit her lip.

“Look at me,” he commanded. “What’s it going to take for us
to get some time together, huh?”

“Time?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” he said. “Time for this.” He brushed his lips
against hers softly and she parted hers in response. He licked her soft bottom
lip then, as she opened her mouth, took full possession of her. He groaned and
put her hands on her waist.

After a potent pause, she moaned and ran her tongue down the
length of his. Rob felt her hand sneak around his waist and grab his butt. He
ground himself into her, unable to control his pounding need. As he thrust, he
bent his knees to fit himself between her legs and she clutched at him,
rotating her pelvis against him, matching his rhythm. Her other arm wove itself
around his head, skimming his sensitive ear.

“Oh Rob,” she whispered against him. “I can’t do this in
public.”

“Let’s go upstairs,” he said hoarsely. He noticed nothing
but the dilated pupils in her huge blue eyes as he pulled her into the
stairwell. As they climbed the first step, holding onto each other, her knees
buckled and they fell-sat down onto the concrete step.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you want me to carry you? It’s
been a long night.”

She reached down to her waist. Even in the dimness, he could
see her confusion as she muttered, “Where is it?”

“What?”

“My purse. I have a condom.” She said it proudly.

A warning bell went off in his head but he ignored it and
leaned into her, pushing her against the metal handrail and kissed her until he
had no breath left. When he came up for air he said, “You must have dropped it.
We’ll deal with that later.”

He felt her smile as he leaned in for another kiss. His hand
came to touch upon a bare leg. “What’s this?” He looked down and noticed the
long slits in her dress. Taking advantage, he ran a hand up her inner thigh
until he hit damp heat.

“Oh Rob, Rob,” Melanie moaned. Her head dropped back, her
face a heavy-lidded mask of ecstasy.

“You like this?” He ran a hand against the soft cleft he
could feel hiding under the damp silk that covered her.

“Yes, please don’t stop. Oh please keep going.”

Her words inflamed him to do things he had never done in
such a dangerous spot before. Rob ran his hand around the edge of the fabric
and pulled it up then thrust a blunt-tipped finger under her satiny curls.

Melanie jerked. He circled his finger around the hot nub he
found there then pressed directly on it. She let out a little cry and leaned
back against the steps.

Hardly believing his own behavior, Rob knelt down on the
concrete floor of the stairwell and pressed his lips to the silk. He tore at it
with his teeth until he could taste her salty sweat and smell her entrancing
musk.

Melanie clutched at his head with long fingers and moaned.
He lost all sense of time, of place, as his senses were taken over by her heat
and scent and motion. Rob had no thought for himself as his needs became hers.

She came quickly. He felt the pulsing of her walls against
the fingers he had thrust into her tight sheath as her breaths came closer
together. After a long moment he released her and rested his head against her
stomach. She lay motionless, giving his cautious nature a chance to resurface.
He was still unsure of her, but he knew himself, had come back to himself. The
blood pooled into his erection slowly began to shift back into his body. He
couldn’t do this.

He didn’t want to get involved with anyone for whom sex was
intimately a commodity. Sex was a private gift, not a public act.

“I need to know more about you,” he said. “I want to trust
you. I still want to be inside of you, but I’m not sure I can.” He pulled away
from her, keeping his hands on her trim waist and watched her face, which had
been soft and dreamy. But now she reanimated.

“Trust?” she said, confusion reigning on her face where once
there had been desire.

“Yes. What has your life been like?”

“Quiet.”

“Since the bad old days?”