Floored (23 page)

She gripped his head, dug her fingers in hard. “I hate you.”

He groaned, his lips against her neck. He pulled the cup of her bra aside and filled his palm with her hot skin. She shuddered. “I hate you so much, Sean.” She wrapped her lovely legs around his waist and her heat set him on fire.

He brushed his nose along her jaw, grazing his teeth there, stopping to kiss, overwhelmed by the sweet, tart citrus smell of her skin. “I love the way you hate me.”

He came back to her lips, plump and wet and wild for his. It wasn’t enough to taste her, to have her tongue slide on his. He wanted her body, he ached to know he could have her, but he wanted her mind as well, her fears, her hopes, her truths.

He broke the kiss, panting into her collarbone, feeling the ridges of her nails carve into his back, this time from want not in anger. “Come out with me?”

Her, “Why,” was a breathless sigh. It was a secret instruction to his body to vibrate with need for her. She knew it.
Demon woman
. She tightened her legs around him. No easy escape. None wanted.

“Because I want to know you.”

“Take me to bed, it’s good, it’s enough.” She kissed a line along his jaw and he dropped his head back to give her access to his throat.

“It’s not enough. Come out with me?”

“No.” She bit hard and he hissed in protest; that she did it, that she stopped. He had no idea. “You get your own way too often.”

“So make me work for you.” He had her bra undone and he teased her nipples, while he nibbled the soft lobe of her ear.

She gasped. “You’re working for me now.”

He stilled his hands and lifted his head to watch her. There wasn’t much of him left that remembered there was a bigger plan at play here. But enough, just enough to know there was a better way.

“That’s the free sample, Caity.”

She tried to chase another kiss. He let her. He was so close to letting her do any fucking thing she wanted to him. “You want more, you have to come out with me.”

She dug her fingers into his skull. He remembered how he wanted her to do that when she’d cut his hair, how he’d loved the tentative way she’d touched his back and chest. She wasn’t tentative now. She knew all the right moves.

“I don’t.” She tried to chase another kiss.

This time he pulled back. It was a herculean effort. It made his head spin. “Yeah, you do. You so do.”

She was pouting at him with swollen, wet lips, her hair a mess of dark curls, her eyes big oceans of blissed out pleasure. There was no run hard or long enough to make his body forget how insanely beautiful she looked or how much he wanted to make her look like that again and again.

He shook his head, put his hands to her knees and ran them up to her thighs, opening them wider so she uncrossed her ankles and released him. She braced back on her hands, her pelvis titled up to him.

He couldn’t stop the animal growl that come out of him as he put his hand against her wet core.

“I can’t believe I’m leaving you like this.” His voice was a husk of itself; ground away and blown out.

She made a grab for his shoulders. “Sean.”

He ducked out and stepped away. “Three dates and then we can come back to this and I won’t stop, I promise you.”

She shook her head. “I’m not coming out with you.”

He took a step away. She hadn’t closed her legs. He closed his eyes. “Liar.” When he opened them she was smiling. She was dazzling like hope and sunshine.

“Controlling bastard.”

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

She closed her legs but it didn’t help. He knew how ready she was. “Why so late? If I have to go out with you, why not a lunch date? Why not breakfast?”

Caitlyn for breakfast, a menu he approved of, but they needed this diet to be healthy. “Because you need time.”

“For what?”

“To go shopping.”

She plucked at her t-shirt. “You don’t like my clothes.” He’d been so close to ripping that tent of a shirt off her. He still could, she wanted him too. Why was he torturing them both? He hadn’t picked her for a tease. He fucking loved it.

“I’d like to nuke ‘em.”

“I don’t dress for you.”

“Pity, because I can’t tell you how much I’d love to peel you out of a sexy dress. How much I’d like to see those legs in heels.”

Her mouth dropped open. He rocked on his feet. The door was a long way across the room and the woman was warm and inspiring and right within reach.

“I’ll come for you at six.”

“Can I trust you?”

He nodded. “I want you to be able to, but we need time.” He needed out of the room before he changed his mind and screwed it all up again.

“Why three dates?”

“One for you. One for me. One in case we change our minds.”

He went to the door, opened it, and took a step outside. She laughed and he turned to watch her tug her shirt down over her knees, like she was closing up shop.

“You could’ve had me tonight. I might not like you enough to let you near after three dates.”

He groaned aloud and she laughed again. Free, like he wanted her to. He pulled the door closed and leaned against it. She was driving him crazy.

Who was the sucker now?

24: Foreplay

The pickings were slim in Port Augusta. There was a Rockmans, a Just Jeans and two other shops that lived at the other end of the alphabet from the word boutique. Still Caitlyn found a way to make Sean’s eyes bug when she opened the door to him at the dot of six.

“You knocked?” she said, giving him mock surprise.

“Does that have a zip?” He gave her a melt plastic look. He shook his head, and gestured for her to step outside. “Better I find out in public.”

She stepped out. He was wearing his jeans and a collar and button shirt she’d not seen before, with the cuffs undone and the sleeves rolled up. He had boots on rather than his runners, and a new belt. She looked into his handsome face, with his sparkling eyes. Hard to believe he was all hers for the night. “We’re really going to do this?”

He offered her his arm. “We’re doing it.” She smelled aftershave, something spicy, oriental, but a world away from Tiger Balm. She took his arm and pressed into his side. He made a cough sound, half choking, half growl. “It has a zip. You did that deliberately.”

She laughed. She had three new dresses. All with zips. This one was a little young, a little tight, and definitely a lot racier than she’d have usually worn. She told herself she’d bought it because it was on sale and on another planet to her Target wardrobe. She’d bought it because she looked hot in it and she wanted to see what that did to him.

It was red with two side panels of leopard print. It had a sweetheart neckline and a split in the back seam so she could walk in her new black stilettos. She’d piled her hair up, but left it tousled. She’d bought a red lipstick and black mascara. She felt like a slightly slutty B-grade fifties starlet. Or a skittish horse. He was making her nervous. This whole idea had her feeling flirty and silly and her expectation for the evening was all out of proportion with what could possibly happen.

She picked up her new handbag and followed him outside. They’d have a meal, they’d sit in the dark and see a movie, whatever was showing. And then.
And then
. Well, that’s when things got fuzzy. He didn’t really mean they’d have three dates. She didn’t need three new dresses. After the movie they’d end up in one of their identical rooms and they’d finish what got started last night. So there was no reason to be nervous. She knew exactly what was going to happen. And it was going to be very good.

“We’re going to dinner and a movie, but I’m not happy,” he said, turning her to face him.

She gestured back towards the room. “Would you rather I got changed?”

He top to bottomed her with eager eyes and an evil snicker. It was enough of an answer. “When I ask a girl on a date I pick her up. I find myself in an unusual predicament.”

“Oh really, what would that be?”

“My chauffeur has the night off.”

“That must be difficult for you.” She walked towards the car, her heels clicking on the concrete. She knew he’d followed. It was as though she could feel his eyes caress her hips. She exaggerated their sway and knew she was right from his throaty laugh. She turned back to him and he stopped. She was level with the car boot. She fished her keys from the little black beaded bag and tossed them at him.

He caught them on the run, a big Christmas morning grin on his face. He went to the passenger side front door and opened it for her. She got in with a lot of knee and thigh and skirt-tightening action.

He said, “Buckle up,” and made it sound like something a normal person wouldn’t do in public.

He’d made reservations at the local Chinese. It was packed, the smells of cabbage and pork and black bean not unpleasant. They were the most formally dressed people in the room. The drone of conversation dropped to a hum when they walked in. They were the floorshow.

“You shouldn’t be been allowed out in that dress,” he rumbled in her ear when he pulled out her chair.

“If you remember, I was perfectly happy with the idea of staying in last night.”

He took his seat opposite. “I have no trouble remembering what you were like last night. It made it hard to sleep, emphasis on the hard, and distracted me all day.”

She dropped her eyes to her lap as heat flooded her face. “What did you do today?” Caitlyn had thought the day would drag, each hour filled with more than sixty minutes, like a long haul flight to an exciting destination without a good book. She’d thought she’d run into Sean at the motel or in the town, but he’d kept out of sight. She’d used her time to shop, run and pamper herself and the day had flown on a wind shift of anticipation that made her forget the reasons she’d ever wanted to remain aloof from him.

“I grew some balls and rang Mum.”

She looked up. “How did that go?”

He picked up the menu. “Predictably badly. I babbled and she gave me static.”

“You don’t seem upset.” Caitlyn picked up her menu too.

He grinned at her over the top of the fake leather binder. “She’ll thaw. She’s my mum. It’s in the job description. Anyway, I’m putting on a brave face. There’s this girl I want to impress.”

“But you’re out with me—you scumbag.”

He folded the menu and put it down on the table. He considered her across the single scrawny carnation with a sprig of greenery in a red plastic vase. “You know, next to my mum, you’re the scariest woman I know.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a try-hard con artist. Do you ever fool anyone?”

He scratched his chin. “I seem to recall fooling a couple of Sydney bikie gangs, and before that I did a good impersonation of a drug dealer in Cabramatta and then there was this lady chauffeur…” his voice trailed off, but his eye contact was solid rock.

“Do you think you fooled her?”

“In the beginning. But she caught on fast. She thought I was a crooked cop.”

“You’re not?”

“What’s in the cake tin, Cait?”

She frowned. “Magic.”

“Magic?” He looked surprised, but by her answer, not by the fact she’d looked.

“Yeah. It should be drugs or money, but it’s a David Jones Christmas cake.”

“I’m not a crooked cop.”

“For the next few days I don’t care what you are, as long as you’re good in bed.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph!” He looked at the ceiling. “I thought you were this polite, quiet, self-conscious girl.” He looked back at her. “Someone my mum would like.”

He was probably playing with her, but just in case. “Did you really?”

“Shit no. I thought you were faking that. I’m only getting to see the real you now, Tiger.”

She smoothed her hands down her ribs. “It’s leopard.”

He growled. “Different skin, same cat. They all have claws, they all purr.”

She leaned across the table and he followed her lead; both of them had their ribs pressed on its plastic tablecloth edge. “Do you still want to make me purr?”

He rocked back laughing. “I want to make you kick and bite and yowl.”

“You’re no gentleman.”

He looked offended. She’d meant it in fun, but it was one of the first things she’d noticed about him, that his rough exterior didn’t always match his manner, that inside the gruff warrior was a gentler soul. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

He picked up the menu again. “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned forward. “Be ready.”

Her head said, ‘for what’, but her heart knew. He was bikie and cop, devil and angel, gentleman and savage. They were all part of him, all facets of his personality. It was how he could morph between Fetch and Sean, and it was how he’d captivated her. It shouldn’t have been possible; a man like him.

After Justin, she’d wanted everything to be clear and simple, see-through, ultra transparent, no hidden agendas or secrets, or traps. The next man she’d planned to let into her life was supposed to be someone without pretence, without mystery. He’d be definable, mappable, trackable, uncomplicated and honest. A school teacher or a bank teller, a retail manager or a fireman. This simple, undemanding, predictable man would be the one who’d stand by her and take her side. Who’d never question her motives or challenge her. Who’d never try to tell her what she wanted to do or feel. Who’d never, ever try to manipulate her.

That was the man who was supposed to get her over Justin and help her build a safe and loving life.

He wouldn’t be a man who made his living pretending to be someone else.

This thing she felt for Sean, it was a wicked little fantasy, an escape. How could it be anything else given where it’d all started, given its foundation of lies and deceit, fear and exploitation on both their parts?

Still, this man, the complicated, changeable, dangerous one who was ordering their food, choosing what he already knew she’d like, was the one she’d chosen to help her re-engage with the world. To rip the bandaid off.

She watched him consult the waiter about the wine and she knew her choice was inspired. This thing between them had ‘beware: temporary construction’ written all over it and decorated with strobing orange lights. They’d both walk away having had a little edgy fun, having used each other to feel better. There was nothing wrong with that. She could hardly wait.