Cowboy & the Captive (10 page)

“They don’t come creeping out if they know something good is going to follow their harassment. So we just have to show them you’ll fight dirty, huh? Do you like this, baby?”

His hands cupped her head as he lowered her back to the bed, coming down beside her, keeping his movements slow and easy, not threatening, not intense, just a silken slide of desire and pleasure to soothe and tempt her.

“I’m not Maria,” she whimpered suddenly, causing him to still. “Don’t hold me like this and think I’m Maria, Luc.”

He frowned down at her as he moved one hand to allow his fingers to caress her cheek.

“Catarina,” he whispered then. “All graceful and smooth like a little cat. Curious and tempting as sin. Come here, little Cat, let me show you how to chase away the nightmares.”

He would figure out the thread of fear and longing in her declaration later. Right now, pouty, tear-swollen lips awaited him. He wanted them reddened with his passion, moving beneath his with hungry abandon. And they were.

A soft moan of surrender escaped her as he slanted his lips over hers and once again used his tongue to tempt her higher. Within seconds her arms were wrapped around his shoulders tentatively as she relaxed into the fiery embrace.

Control, Luc reminded himself. He couldn’t take her now. Not while she was weak, frightened. He wanted to soothe her, wanted her to know he would hold her through whatever fears besieged her. He wanted—God help him, he
needed
—her trust.

“There, now.” He drew back long seconds later and pulled her closer into his embrace. “See? It’s all gone, baby.”

A small grin suddenly edged her lips; he knew she could sense the sexual tension wrapping around them.

“I’m supposed to go back to sleep now?” she finally asked him, her voice hoarse, but thankfully without fear.

“Well,” he finally said with no small amount of amusement, “unless you want to take care of this hard-on killing me. Otherwise, I’d advise you to go to sleep fast or I might be tempted to convince you to help me out with that matter.”

She was definitely considering it. For a second his heart stilled in anticipation before going into overdrive and beating a fierce drumbeat of lust inside his chest. Then her eyes snapped closed, though the corners of her lips were still edging into a grin.

“I’m asleep,” she murmured drowsily.

Luc snorted and settled deeper in his pillow, holding her to his chest and trying to fight back his own fears. Her screams would haunt him forever, he thought. What the hell had happened to her?

“You convince yourself of that, baby.” He kissed the top of her head and sighed wearily. “Now, go to sleep before my lust overrules my head and convinces me you’re well able to handle a good old-fashioned tumble.”

Her laughter was more relaxed now as her body softened against him.

“Thanks, Luc,” she finally whispered.

“For what? Baby, I didn’t do anything but make myself hard as stone with no relief in sight. You should feel sorry for me. Real sorry.” He exaggerated his slow drawl, relishing her low laughter in the dark.

“Thanks anyway.” She snuggled closer, sighed deeply, and within minutes was drifting back to sleep.

She left Luc staring into the darkness, a frown on his face and suspicion building in his head. If he weren’t so certain of Joe, he would have sworn this couldn’t be Maria after all. But one thing was clear. Whatever the hell was going on, she wasn’t the type of woman he had been led to believe, nor was she the drug-dazed whore his information had hinted at. She was almost…innocent. He wanted to shake his head to dispel that image. The woman who sucked his dick two years before wasn’t innocent, not in any way. But strangely enough, the woman cleaning his house, and now sleeping in his bed, was just that.

Chapter Twelve

Melina did her best to ignore Luc the next day. It wasn’t that the nightmare had left her frightened. Strangely enough, it had left her more comforted than she had ever been after such an episode. No, she was avoiding Luc because that single act of comfort had suddenly shifted the balance of her emotions. What had been simple lust, a desire for that tough-as-hell body, was turning into something she didn’t understand, something deeper, something more intense. Something that was almost frightening.

He had held her through the night. His arms, so muscular, strong and warm. God, he was so warm.

She paused as she loaded the washer with dusty jeans and closed her eyes at the thought of it, remembering the feel of him holding her. A shudder raced down her spine. Like live bands of flexible steel, his arms had surrounded her, wrapping around her and holding her close to his chest.

And his chest… She sighed. She was a lost cause. One of those silly, insipid females who caved for lust. She stuffed his jeans into the washer as she grimaced at the very idea of it. It was bad enough she had been a doormat for her family her entire life, but this was ridiculous. She despised women who caved so damned easily.

“But it’s just for a little while,” she muttered to herself as she stared into the depths of the washer as though it could actually hold answers.

He would realize his mistake soon. Luc wasn’t a stupid man, just a determined man. And when he did realize what he had done he would pack her up and take her back to her empty apartment and her empty life.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t find a lover, if she wanted one. It was, unfortunately, a matter of having only wanted one man. Luc. Silly wimp, she berated herself. Take one look at six feet plus of hot cowboy and what do you do? Goodbye, common sense; hello, hormones.

She slammed the washer lid closed.

“I am not this insane,” she mumbled to herself. “God, I have to have more self-control than this.”

“I don’t know, Cat. If you start answering yourself, though, I’d worry if I were you.”

Melina swung around, her eyes widening in mortification, her body flushing in embarrassment as she stared back at the object of her insanity.

Luc leaned casually against the doorframe to the washroom, his gray eyes glinting with amusement, a smile quirking those eat-’em-up lips. That full lower lip was as tempting as chocolate and she knew his kiss was anything but sweet. It was hot and wild and mind destroying and she wanted to feast on it.

“I thought you were outside,” she snapped, turning quickly away from him to check the clothes in the dryer before turning it on with a quick flip of the switch.

“I was.” She could hear the shrug in his voice.

A second later she heard him move closer. She tensed, though her pussy began to weep in serious distress. That particular part of her body was not pleased with her reticence in jumping his bones. It really wasn’t fair, she thought. Men like Luc Jardin should seriously be outlawed for the good of all females.

He was too close. She could smell him. She straightened the containers of fabric softener, laundry detergent and various stain removers as she fought the racing of her heart, the tightening of her nipples. Why did he have to be so damned gentle last night? If he had been a bastard, she could have resisted him, could have reminded herself how mean and rude and totally irrational he was.

“Cat.” His chest brushed her back as she drew in a long, hard breath. “You feel it too, baby. It won’t just go away.”

She shook her head, denying him, denying herself.

“Do you have any idea how hard it was to just hold you last night?” he asked her. “Your hard little nipples burned holes in my chest, even through that shirt. I bet I have the singe marks to prove it.”

She couldn’t stop the smile that begged to curve her lips, but she kept her back to him, trembling, jerking in response when he kissed her bare shoulder. The sleeveless tank top was no defense against him. The gauzy slip-skirt she wore with it suddenly seemed too heavy, too restricting. She wanted to get naked with him. Wanted to roll across beds and floors and tables and scream in pleasure as he fucked her sillier than she must already be.

“I have half an hour before a buyer shows up,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her bare skin once again. “Plenty of time, baby, to show you how good it could be.”

Oh hell. Like he had to tell her anything. Even her womb was rippling with pleading little tremors. Her panties would have to be changed. And she didn’t dare turn around because her nipples were about to pop through the cloth of her shirt, they were so damned hard. Yep, she was in trouble here.

“I have to clean…something.” She rolled her eyes at the betraying squeak in her voice. Silly twit, she accused herself.

“Hmm.” The soft hum against her neck had her shuddering in response.

“Luc, please…” She licked her suddenly dry lips as she fought to hold onto her control. “This isn’t the wisest course of action here.”

“Do you know how sexy that little skirt looks?” He ignored her statement as his hands gripped her, one smoothing down her thigh. “I’ve denied myself all day, Cat. Turn around, baby, and tell me why I shouldn’t raise that flimsy excuse for a covering and push my cock as deep inside your sweet pussy as I can get it.”

Why he shouldn’t? There was a reason why he shouldn’t?

Twit.

She flipped around, opened her mouth to say…something, she was certain, though she quickly forgot what as his lips covered hers. He lifted her against his chest, his arms coming around her, causing her to whimper at the warmth, the security of being enfolded so snugly against him.

Her lips opened to him, her tongue meeting his with a speed and hunger that she knew should have shocked her. Her hands went to his hair. All that long, thick black silk hiding beneath his Stetson. The Stetson was pushed quickly out of the way—who the hell cared where it landed?

Could fingertips have orgasms? Her fingers flexed; the flesh covering them rioted with pleasure at the feel of the cool, incredibly soft strands they suddenly gripped.

His lips ate at hers, but she dined in return. Hard, deep kisses that drew the breath from her body and left her dependent on him alone for survival. His head tilted, his lips slanting over hers as he growled into the kiss and lifted her further.

“Luc…” She tore her lips from his, crying out his name in dazed pleasure as she felt the cool metal of the washer beneath her bare butt. Thongs were no protection.

Her head fell back as his lips moved down her neck. His tongue was a demon. It licked as his lips created a delicate suction along the sensitive points of the column of flesh. One hand smoothed beneath her skirt, spreading her thighs, drawing ever closer to the hot center of need that tormented her.

“God, you’re like a flame,” he groaned as his other hand, sneaky, diabolical, gripped the hem of her shirt and jerked it over her swollen breasts. “Sweet heaven,” he muttered harshly. “Cat, baby…”

Melina opened her eyes, staring into his flushed, lustful face and she swore she nearly came in that second. Had any man ever looked at her with such hunger and need? Never, she quickly answered herself. Not at any time.

“Bad idea…” She trembled as his hand cupped the full curve, his thumb rasping over the sensitized tip. She wasn’t about to make him stop.

“Good idea,” he denied. “Best damned idea I ever had.”

His lips covered the engorged peak and Melina lost the last bit of common sense she might have originally possessed as the heat of his mouth surrounded her needy nipple.

Could she bear the pleasure? She arched to him, a thin wail escaping her lips as her fingers sank deeper into his hair, holding his head to her as he suckled at the tight flesh deeply. Her legs tightened on his hips as he jerked her closer, grinding the hard ridge of his cock against the swollen mound of her pussy.

Ah God, it was too good. His teeth nibbled at the hard peak his mouth surrounded, his tongue lashing at it with fiery demand before he sucked at it firmly once again. She couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t stop her hands from holding him closer, her hips from moving, rubbing her cunt against the hot wedge of flesh behind the tight fit of denim. Her clit was swollen, throbbing, so agonizingly sensitive she knew it would take very little to send her exploding into orgasm.

“God. I’m going to end up fucking you blind on this damned washer,” he muttered as he drew back, despite her attempts to hold him to her.

She was supposed to protest that? She shuddered as he pushed her skirt higher, his thumbs edging around the elastic at the side of her lacy panties. She was dying with anticipation, her pussy saturated with it as she stared back at him in dazed awareness of exactly where this was heading.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered as his fingers delved beneath the lace slowly, pulling it to the side as his other hand rose to press her back until her shoulders touched the wall behind the washer. “Just like this, baby. Just a taste…”

His tongue swiped through the hot slit of her cunt, curled around her clit then traveled back down to suddenly plunge into the entrance of her vagina as he lifted her legs over his shoulders.

“Oh God! Luc!” He would kill her. She didn’t have the experience to combat this, didn’t have the self-control to deny it.

“Mmm.” The sound of male pleasure, the feel of his tongue fucking inside her was nearly too much. She was reaching, desperate…oh God, she was so close. Her hands were in his hair again, holding him to her as he ate her with such sensual abandon that she felt lost in the headlong flight to wherever he was determined to push her. Insanity, she imagined. Complete, hedonistic mindlessness.