Dance of the Crystal (13 page)

So she gave him her most winning smile. “Don’t be a party pooper. It’s my birthday.”

“It’s not that I’m a party pooper. I just don’t like surprises.”

Crystal stopped at the open louvered doors, deliciously aware that she was nearly naked while Soren was covered from neck to toes in jeans and a light-blue polo shirt that highlighted the brilliant blue of his eyes. “How could you have been surprised? Grandma told me she invited all three of you Thorvalds.

And everyone else certainly came prepared with a swimsuit.”

Soren’s eyes narrowed. “She may have told you she did, but apparently she forgot to call me. Since she apparently knows Kat from the Platinum Society, she may have just issued a blanket invitation to bring her fiancé and his brothers. Until Mags actually pulled into the driveway, I thought we were going to his bachelor party.”

“You did?” Taken aback, Crystal let her eyes skim over the guests illuminated by myriad Japanese lanterns, looking for Rowena. She wouldn’t put it past her. After all, her grandmother had given her the crystal and knew how it had almost scalded her skin when she’d first seen Soren at the bachelor auction.

Still, it was underhanded of her to surprise Soren like that. “I’ll talk to her,” she promised. “Wait.

Shouldn’t your brothers have mentioned— Oh, I get it. They didn’t want you to know. You’d have backed out, wouldn’t you?” Yes, he was definitely skittish. “Guess they know you pretty well.”

Soren just glared at her.

“Meanwhile, you’ll feel more comfortable if you take your clothes off.”

Heat spread up her throat and bloomed on her cheeks at the searing look in his eyes. “I mean, get into swim trunks,” she managed. “That way you won’t stand out.”

She felt her blush deepening at her Freudian slip. She remembered all too well how much a certain part of him stood out when he was naked in her bedroom. “I mean…”

Turning her head away from his intense gaze, she nudged him inside the cabana, with its wicker chairs in a small grouping and kitchenette against one wall, and walked to a tall, narrow cabinet painted white.

“Just…let me find you a suit.”

“I don’t get it.” Soren stood near the entrance, as if needing to be near an escape hatch. “One day you’re a virgin…” he stumbled over the word “…and a week later you act like an experienced woman of the world. Suggesting a
ménage a trois
. Traipsing around on stage with male strippers. Tossing off double entendres. Wearing a tiny bikini that has every guy’s tongue hanging out.”

A smile spread across Crystal’s face. “Really? Is yours?”

“Yes. Stop distracting me. Were you just playing a role of innocent babe in the woods when we—” he cleared his throat, “the first time we—”

“Made love? Yes, I was a virgin the first time we made love. But I wasn’t an innocent babe in the woods. I have a healthy knowledge of sexual matters. I’ve kissed my share of frogs and fumbled through some anatomy lessons in the dark. When we met, I knew I wanted you to be my first, and I was thrilled that you wanted me too.”

She tossed him a pair of size 34 royal blue trunks with its hangtag still on it. “Here. If it fits, there’s a pair of scissors on the counter to cut off the tag.”

Deliberately she slid the towel off her shoulders, flinging it on one of the chairs as she walked toward him, her breasts gently swaying under the yellow triangles of lined cotton. “Do you need help?”

Soren stood his ground, one large hand holding the trunks. In the reflected light from the shimmering water, his eyes glowed a piercing blue. She could see his Adam’s apple move as he swallowed.

She reached for his belt buckle.

He tossed the trunks aside and grabbed her wrists. “I can handle it,” he rasped. “Get out of here.”

The tenor of the party, her new Platinum Society membership with all its possibilities, and what she’d seen and heard in and around the pool, had shifted Crystal’s sex drive into higher gear. Here she was in a darkened room with the man she intended to marry. The champagne she’d drunk had made her feel bold. She set into action the plan she’d just devised.

“These doors lock from the inside,” she said, indicating a simple thumb-latch, and blithely sauntered out of the cabana. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

She walked away a few steps then heard the gratifying sound of the latch clicking into place. Before she lost her nerve, she rounded the corner of the structure and snuck into the utility shed housing the pump and other pool equipment. Silently she turned the knob on the inner door that opened up at the edge of the kitchenette.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. But more to the point, she followed his mumbling and the rustle of denim as Soren slid out of his jeans. The slivers of light through the louvers showed him in profile while she, Crystal was sure, was invisible against the darkness of the room. She unhooked her bra and set it down gently onto the back of a chair, then crept forward.

She could tell the minute he realized he wasn’t alone. Having just bent over to put a leg through his trunks, he shot upright. “Who’s there?”

“It’s me. I decided not to wait,” she said, snaking her arms around his waist and hanging on tightly, for she knew he’d try to pry her loose. She rubbed her bare breasts against his chest hair. Her nipples hardened instantly and she shivered at the feel of him, the muscle and sinew and skin that was Soren Thorvald.

“Jesus, Crystal. There’s people outside!” He grabbed her arms, as she’d expected, but couldn’t seem to decide what to do next, whether to push her away or press her tighter to him.

She pressed even closer to him and rose on tiptoe, capturing his thick cock between their bodies. The heat of him almost melted her bikini bottom, to say nothing of her insides. Juices pooled at her crotch.

“Most of the people outside are doing the same thing. Besides, it’s my birthday and I wanted to do something totally daring.”

“But your grandmother—”

“Is a member of the Platinum Society.” She ran her palms down his back until they reached his firm ass cheeks. She cupped them, marveling at their firmness, then pulled his hips forward to grind against hers.

“Crystal, we can’t—”

Her mouth found his. She kissed him with less expertise than she had advertised, but it didn’t matter. His own innate skill took over the kiss. He stroked the seam of her mouth with his tongue. Like a flower she opened for him, and he thrust it inside, tasting, stroking, exploring. His arms encircled her, pressing her body flush against him, shoulders to thighs. His cock rubbed against her bare belly, scorching her.

“We’ve got to stop,” he choked out.

“I know. Just one more kiss.” She dropped to her knees, her palms sliding down his hips and thighs. She feathered eager but unschooled kisses on his cock. It throbbed against her face, thick and hot and heavy.

Did she dare do more? Yes, she wanted to—needed to. She wrapped the fingers of one hand around the most blatantly male part of him to hold him in place. Her other hand kneaded the firm flesh of his ass cheek. Her tongue darted out to taste him, small, shy licks on the thick ridge circling the head. Slightly salty, incredibly smooth, scorching hot. The primitive groan escaping his throat emboldened her. She opened her mouth and drew him in a couple inches, feeling with her tongue the vein standing out against the rigid length of him.

His hands tunneled under her hair at the nape, holding her head in place. His musky, masculine scent filled her. She drew her cheeks in, clamping the insides of her mouth against him as though she were sucking a Popsicle.

With a guttural sound, he leaned down, thrust his hands under her armpits and yanked her to her feet.

“Don’t.”

“Oh dear, did I hurt you? I’m sorry, I’ve never done—”

Her voice faded as he released her, standing silent and rigid, hands fisted, eyes tightly closed as if he couldn’t stand looking at her. Grateful for the relative darkness, Crystal felt her face flame. She’d certainly showed him what a country bumpkin she really was when it came to sexual matters.

Crystal spun on her bare feet, stubbed her toe on the chair when she grabbed her bra from where she’d dropped it. Without knocking anything over, she managed to find the door to the utility room. In that small space, she fumbled with the clasp, cracking her funny bone against the wall, but managed to jiggle her breasts into the cups. With a last deep breath, she walked out into the cool, clear night.

Alone. And dumbstruck.

How could she have done something so wanton? She couldn’t really use the excuse of too much champagne. One or two glassfuls, that was all she’d consumed. Nor was the herd mentality to blame.

She was old enough to be master of her own fate, never mind that, all around her people were pairing off and seeking dark corners.

She’d thrown herself at Soren because she knew he was The One. But the crystal only had so much magic to it. Until he felt the same way, it wouldn’t do to scare him off by being so blatant.

Cautiously she sought out her grandmother, afraid she’d discover Rowena doing a horizontal dance with Trey or one of the other men attending tonight. She was relieved to see her in the great room, wearing a thigh-length, red striped terrycloth robe as she spoke to one of the clean-up staff. Crystal sat down to wait.

* * * * *

Inside the cabana, Soren also sat down. More like collapsed, he thought ruefully.

So far he’d managed to cover his rampaging cock with his briefs, but he felt like a freight train had run over him then backed up and done it again. Was he a damn fool for stopping her? Hell, she’d been all over him—again, acting like a practiced courtesan in between moments of innocence. Jesus. When she’d kissed his cock so artlessly, he thought he’d explode right then and there. But hell, when she started sucking on him, he wanted nothing so much as to ram it all the way down her throat. And those tits, soft and firm at the same time, rubbing against his chest, the glorious handfuls of her ass cheeks—a man could only stand so much teasing before he wanted to fuck her brains out. That he couldn’t do, not with a bunch of strangers within earshot who could burst in on them at any time. And especially not to Crystal, who was, dammit, special.

But wait. She’d
apologized
to him. Christ, did she think he’d pulled her off because she’d
hurt
him? Did she think he found her inexperience distasteful? Should he apologize to
her
?

Damn. What if she told Rowena what he’d done? They could get a restraining order against him.

No, they wouldn’t. Rowena was a Platinum Society member, and she’d encouraged Crystal to follow in her footsteps. Besides, Crystal had come on to him with her big brown eyes and her double entendres.

He’d lived without a woman for most of his life. His sex life was practically nonexistent. He could live without this particular woman.

But damn, she was so bubbly, so full of life. God knew, his life was about as exciting as watching beer ferment. She’d brought a ray of sunshine into it. He could use her to get his rocks off and then walk away before things got sticky. He didn’t have to give his heart away the way his father had done only to find out the feeling wasn’t mutual. He’d never let himself go down that route, putting someone so far up on a pedestal that when she got off it, you lost the will to live.

With a baffled shake of his head, Soren stood up to slip into his jeans. It was time to think about logistics. If he knew his brothers, Mags went home with Kat, and as sure as midnight is dark, Rolf scored with one of the women there and wouldn’t want a tagalong. He figured it was late enough that the snooty butler wouldn’t object to calling him a cab.

* * * * *

“Really, Rowena, don’t you think you’re letting things get out of hand?” Portable heaters scattered around the patio kept the cool April night at bay, but his hand trembled as he lifted the coffee cup to his lips. The pool had been heated, and after a swim so he wouldn’t stand out as a party pooper, he’d donned one of the terrycloth robes laid out for the guests’ use and hovered near the buffet table.

“Not at all.” She squeezed his biceps in what he deemed a too-familiar gesture. “I thought it was time I introduced you to the idea of the Platinum Society. You’re mature, strong, handsome. Just the kind of new blood we need. I’d be glad to sponsor you for membership. The initiation fee and dues are steep, but I’m sure it wouldn’t be a hardship for you.”

“It’s not the fees.” He had to reach hard to control his anger. “People are coupling like rabbits, even in the pool. I’m thinking of…” His voice softened. “Crystal. She’s so innocent. How can you expose her to all that’s going on in plain view?”

“She’s thirty years old, dear heart. It was time to push her out of her comfort zone. Did she look embarrassed up there on stage with those gorgeous young men? Hell, no. It’s obvious she has her grandmother’s appreciation of the opposite sex.” She scrutinized him thoroughly, making him glad he’d covered his solid, muscular body with the robe.

Deliberately he set down his coffee cup and reached for a mini-éclair he didn’t want, trying to control the outrage that threatened to overwhelm him. The old bat had taken his pure Madonna and made her into a whoring Mary Magdalene. When he finally had Crystal ensconced in her special, secure place, he’d punish the salacious grandmother for what she’d done to his sweet, innocent angel.

Chapter Nine

“Okay. You were down on your knees in front of Soren. Tell me exactly what he said,” Kat Donaldson demanded. The three women sat around Deirdra’s breakfast table over homemade scones and strong coffee, and Kat’s manner was part sex therapist, part voyeur, and all encouraging.

Having met Kat at the birthday party, Crystal had been delighted to discover that the woman was acquainted with her best friend—Kat’s art gallery was on the same block as Deirdra’s New Age shop.

When she heard Kat was soon to be Soren’s sister-in-law, Crystal had jumped at Deirdra’s suggestion that the three women put their heads together to brainstorm next steps.

Still, she felt a moment of panic at admitting just how raunchy she’d been in the cabana.