Hard Day's Knight (19 page)

“You said something nice to me.” It was so unexpected, I figured I’d better make sure he meant to be nice.

“Do you want more? How about this: The sight of those luscious curves of yours in red satin makes my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth.”

I poked him in his kneecap. It was a very nice kneecap, I took a moment to notice. Nicely rounded, but firm. It was sexy, too. A sexy, sexy kneecap. “You’re flirting with me!”

“I’ve found it to be the gentlemanly thing to do when a woman calls upon me while I’m sleeping.”

I eyed his cat-covered middle and wondered what it would take to pry Moth off his groin, and if I did manage that, whether the old wives’ tale about the size of men’s feet being proportionate to the size of other parts was true or not. One glance at the long length of Walker’s feet had me salivating.

“Ahem.” I jerked my gaze up as he raised an ebony eyebrow.

“Oh. Sorry. Um—what were we talking about?”

“You accused me of flirting with you, something you seem to find amazing, and yet given our current situation, I felt it was entirely appropriate.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re flirting. And you shouldn’t be,” I said, crossing my arms under my breasts.

There was a moment there when I thought Walker’s eyes were going to go cartoon and bulge right out of their sockets with an accompanying
woobah!
sound, but he managed to keep them in his head. “Oh, really?” His voice was hoarse. He cleared his throat again and dragged his gaze back up to my eyes. “Why shouldn’t I flirt with you?”

“Because you don’t like me.”

He looked genuinely puzzled at that. “When did I say that?”

“Well”—my hands did a little flutter thing—“you didn’t actually
say
it, but you implied it with all the times you’ve yelled at me, or said mean things to me, or denied that you were sexually frustrated.”

“I’m not sexually frustrated,” he said.

I stared at Moth.

“Well, not much.”

I pursed my lips.

He shifted uncomfortably, which resulted in Moth extending his claws to keep his soft, warm, comfy bed steady beneath him. “Yeearch!”

Walker grabbed at Moth, plucking him off his middle and setting him on the side of the sheet-covered air mattress that was Walker’s bed. I eyed the three scratches that were slowly turning red with beaded blood. “It’s reassuring to find that sometimes old wives’ tales are founded in fact.”

Walker sat up, brushing at the bloody scratches on his groin.

“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” I offered with my best Wenchish leer.

He frowned at me for a second; then his brow cleared and he stretched out on the mattress, his hands behind his head as he looked down the long line of his body to where I was still straddling his leg. “Certainly, if you want to.”

I dragged my gaze from where it was taking in the sights up to his silvery-gray eyes, back to the sights, up to his eyes again, and then pretty much did a little tennis-match thing for a minute or so where I looked back and forth between the two points of interest while I frantically tried to resuscitate my mind from where it had fallen into a faint at his words.

“Um . . . you do? Why?” His eyebrows rose. I blushed at the stupidity of my question. Geez, you put a particularly nice specimen of manhood in front of me, and I turned into Pepper the Village Idiot. “That is, I know
why
you’d like me to—most guys would—but still, I understand
that
why, but why me? I mean, you don’t like me.”

“You keep saying that.” Walker propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze nice and steady on my face, whereas mine kept roaming all over his landscape. “I don’t know why you assume that I dislike you because we’ve had a few disagreements. It’s not true.”

That had me narrowing my eyes at the innocent look he was trying very hard to fit over his handsome face. “A few disagreements? You accused me of being afraid of horses, told me you were busy when I wanted to swoon into your arms, and spurned my advances when I wanted to kiss you. On top of that you yelled at me, and walked out when I was trying to comfort you. I think that pretty much spells dislike.”

Walker thought about that for a minute. I sat where I was, his calf warm between mine, and wondered what sort of a man wouldn’t feel the least bit discomfited by finding himself stark naked in front of a woman he’d known for all of three days.

A man who was starting to look more and more like the knight of my dreams, that was who.

“I suppose some of my actions might have lent themselves to an incorrect interpretation,” he finally said, his eyes dipping for a second to my lace-covered breasts as I took a deep breath to dispute him. “But I assure you that on the contrary I find you very . . . very . . ”

My breasts, evidently possessing a mind of their own, did an amazing sort of sensitizing thing beneath the cool satin and lace of the negligee, my nipples suddenly going tight and hard under the effect of his gaze. His eyes widened as he watched them, which, in turn, turned my breasts into impudent creatures that brazenly shoved themselves forward as if inviting him to put his hands on them. Other, more private parts of me thought my breasts had the right idea, and they, too started clamoring for Walker and his hands. One minute I was just sitting there, straddling the lower leg of a totally naked man while having a stimulating (if not quite intellectual) conversation, and the next my entire body went up in some sort of wanton inferno of desire.

Walker, being a bright, intelligent sort of person, did what any red-blooded manly man of his generation would do in such a circumstance: He grabbed me and hauled me over his naked body, collapsing so we both fell down onto his makeshift bed.

“Hi,” I said with a girlish giggle as my chin bumped his.

“Hello. Are you comfortable?” I wiggled my leg out from where it was caught under his. He sucked in his breath and clamped both hands down onto my hips. “For the love of God, woman, don’t do that unless you want it to be all over before we even get started.”

“Oh, are we going to start something?”

His eyes turned molten. “We already have.”

“Really?” I stacked my hands together and rested my chin on them. “That’s interesting, because although you’re naked, and parts of you seem to be in an anticipatory sort of mood, I’m still back on that whole ‘you don’t like me’ thing. Call me silly, but when I offer to kiss a man and he backs away, that more or less tells me he’s not interested in the same thing I am. So why the change of heart?”

Surprise danced across his face. “You want to talk? Now? You want to talk now? Right now?
Talk
?”

“Yes, I want to talk.” He squawked as I adjusted myself. “Oh, sorry. Hope I didn’t squish anything important. I’d like to talk because despite the fact that I think you’re yummy and you smell nice and I liked those little tiny kisses you pretended you weren’t giving me yesterday, we don’t seem to be on the same wavelength.”

Walker’s chest rose beneath me as he took a deep breath. It was a lovely movement, one that set my breasts alight as they brushed the thin layer of satin that was the only thing between my flesh and his. “For the last time, dammit, I like you!”

“You didn’t like me earlier,” I pointed out.

“Yes, I did. When you weren’t infuriating me, I did.” He looked very irritated. I almost pointed that out to him, but figured I’d better keep that observation to myself. “It’s just that I don’t do well with words. Talking and such. It’s . . . difficult.”

“You told me you didn’t like aggressive women.”

“I don’t.”

I tipped my head to the side to consider him. He was so cute, lying there being all manly and unwilling—or unable—to express his feelings. “But I’m being aggressive now. I came into your tent, and I’ve looked at all your naked bits, and now I’m lying on you thinking about just how fine those naked bits are, and how nice your chest is, and how much I want to suck on that spot behind your ear, and all sorts of other wicked, aggressive-woman sorts of things that I can’t possibly do because you wouldn’t appreciate such actions.”

“You want to suck on my neck?” he asked, curiosity rampant in his beautiful eyes.

I put a finger on his chin and turned his head slightly so I could see the spot behind his left ear. “Oh, yeah!”

“Ah. Perhaps I need to rethink my previous stance regarding aggressive women.”

“I like how you talk,” I whispered against his lips, kissing my way along his jawline until I reached his earlobe. “You’ve got the most delicious accent, and your voice thrums through me like I’m a plucked string. Do you want me to show you why being an aggressive woman can be a good thing?”

He moaned his answer as I found the spot behind his ear that I’d been dying to taste. I sucked on it for a moment, then nibbled his neck until he was writhing beneath me, his fingers digging convulsively into my butt.

“You taste just as good as you smell,” I whispered, running my tongue around the curve of his ear.

He moaned again as I gently bit his earlobe. “I’ve changed my mind,” he said in a deep, hoarse voice that made me shiver.

“About us starting something?” I asked, going still, wondering what the hell I was doing lying on top of a man who was systematically making my entire body melt until I was nothing but a (relatively) sentient puddle of aroused goo.

He smiled then, a wicked smile, a wonderful smile, a smile full of unspoken desire and excitement and need. It was a smile that left my body smoldering, thrilled to my toenails by the dark promise that shone so brightly in his eyes. “No. About me not liking aggressive women. You may aggress me to your heart’s desire.”

“Oooh, such generosity! Let me see, do I want to investigate this lovely broad chest with its two impudent nipples”—I swept my hand down the planes of his chest, greatly enjoying the way his stomach contracted when I tickled his belly button—“or do I want to nuzzle my cheeks along these strong horseman’s thighs”—I leaned over his thighs and gently bit the inside of one leg. Walker sucked in approximately half the remaining oxygen in the tent—“or do I want to study, in great detail, this monument to everything masculine and good?”

I leaned against his hip and considered the monument, which had been busy while I was lying on him nibbling on his neck.

“I don’t care what you do, just so long as you do something soon.” His voice, so tight and tense with arousal, literally sent shivers down my spine.

“You’re not circumcised, are you?”

“No,” Walker said, and I could be wrong, but it almost seemed as if there was also a note of desperation in his voice. “My mother felt it wasn’t necessary. Does that matter?”

I made a little moue at the parts in question. “No, I guess not, I was just a little thrown by the different scenery. I wouldn’t want to break any rules, so be sure to tell me if something doesn’t work the same. If you’re good to go, I am.”

“Oh, lord, yes, I’m ready.” His chest was covered with a faint layer of sweat, his hands clutching the sheet beneath us as I reached out, and with one finger, spread the little bead of happy juice that crowned his penis.

Moth, bored with us, went over to the other side of the tent, where there was a stack of long canvas bags that presumably held lances and swords. I looked down at Walker, laid out like a buffet table of orgasmic delights, and I knew I couldn’t do the things my body was demanding I do. Not without explaining myself first.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“You can’t?” His eyes popped open at that, the silver heat in them enough to steam my blood. “Why can’t you? You think I’m sexy and I smell nice, don’t you? You said I did! You can’t deny it; I heard you tell Butcher that you think I’m scrummy.”

“Yummy,” I corrected him. “Scrummy is probably appropriate, too, although I’m not quite sure what it means. Either way, yes, I did tell Butcher that, and yes, I meant it, and under normal guy-meets-girl circumstances I would be, at this moment, riding you like an unbroken stallion, but this isn’t a normal circumstance. There’s something I have to tell you.”

He stared at me with the same bemused look I knew I wore often, an act that so warmed my heart, I leaned down to kiss him. What I intended as a little peck changed the second my lips touched his into something much more heated, something profound and not at all what I expected. His hands swept up behind me, pulling me down onto his chest, the thin layer of satin no barrier at all between us. His lips parted, the hot lure of his mouth too much for me to resist. I teased his lip with the tip of my tongue, capturing his groan as I sucked his lower lip into my mouth, urging him without words to claim what I wanted so badly to give him. His fingers worked down my spine, trailing fire behind them, sending little waves of arousal flickering up my back. His mouth was hot and spicy, the taste of him just as intoxicating as I knew it would be. I allowed my tongue to do a fiery tango around his, tempting him, teasing him, the heat inside me burning brighter and brighter with each touch of his hands and mouth. The world around me spun, his mouth branding mine as his tongue surged and retreated, charging around my mouth like it owned the place.

I opened my eyes, aware that somehow he had flipped me over onto my back, and that just as mysteriously the satin of my lovely negligee was now up around my waist. Walker’s chest was hard and hot against my breasts as one of his hands skimmed down my hip, tugging my underwear off.

“What do you have to tell me?” he asked, and my back arched at the way his voice stroked along my sensitized skin.

“What?” He wanted to talk? Now? When my whole body was about to explode?

His head dipped, and I shivered as his lips caressed the sweet spot behind my ear. He nibbled me just as I had nibbled him, the soft, cool silk of his hair brushing my cheek. I couldn’t stifle a little moan of sheer, unadulterated pleasure as he sucked hard on my neck, his teeth scraping gently before he lifted his head. “You said you had something to tell me. What was it?”