Loving Ms. Wrong (7 page)

She tries to remove her hand from mine and I
don’t let her. “But what happens when the feeling doesn’t go away?
When you begin to plot his death and can’t close your eyes without
seeing what was done to someone you love… what do you do then?”

“I—I don’t know. What did you do?”

“After two years, I left the country.” She
says it so matter-of-factly, I realize this is a common retelling
for her. Maybe it’s what she told her friends and family. But I
have a feeling it’s not everything. “I’d hoped a change of scenery
would jar me out of the circle of hate.”

“And did it?”

“Not at first. It took a while. After a year
of wandering, I found myself in India studying yoga and meditation
to diffuse the anger. I had odd jobs and lived simply. That’s where
I learned to work reclaimed metal into art. Eventually I was able
to let the rage go, but only after a very long time—and a lot of
mistakes. Meditating has been the one thing in life to bring me
peace.”

“Good for you! That’s something isn’t it?
You should be proud. Others may have allowed the hate and
bitterness to infect the rest of their lives, without ever being
able to move past it.”

What a remarkable woman. And here I was,
thinking she was some lackadaisical meandering fool, content to
drift from one thing in life to the next. She’s a wounded soul
who’s strong again. Her achievement in combating personal demons
far exceeds anyone I’ve ever met.

“Thanks, but I’m far from perfect.”

“I dunno,” I say with a rakish grin. “You’re
looking pretty damn good to me.”

She takes a deep breath to steady herself,
trying once again to pull her hand from mine, but I won’t let her.
“Except for one major flaw…”

I lean closer, eager to put my mouth on hers
again but unsure how she’ll react if the timing is bad. “What’s
that?”

“I… I feel nothing during sex.”

My heart drops to my stomach. What the hell?
I know she felt something when I kissed her. I saw her reaction
when I touched her hair. She feels, I know she does.

“That’s a bunch of bull. You’ve just had bad
lovers.”

“Ha! I wish.” She tugs her hand again. “I
knew you’d react this way.”

“Stop pulling away from me. You’re stuck
with me for the night and I happen to like holding your hand. It’s
warm… and strong… and it feels sexy against my palm.”

She snorts in disbelief but stops trying to
draw away. “How can my palm feel sexy?”

On a whim, I lift our joined hands and bring
it to my mouth, kissing the back of her hand. “Don’t you feel the
heat between us? The spark of what might be?”

“It’s getting hotter in here because the AC
is off and it’s July.”

I linger over another kiss while staring
into her eyes. “That’s not it.”

“Trust me. I’ve tried it all. Men, women,
both at once, two of one gender, toys… exotic positions… nothing
worked.” Hunger shines in her gaze… hunger and yearning. Her breath
eases out steady and slow, her attention never wavering from me as
she sits in silence.

I gulp at the images racing through my mind.
“You’re really good at dropping sexy conversation bombs and then
clamming up, you know that?”

“Bet you say that to all the girls.”

“Nope. I don’t. You say things…”

“Yes?”

“They twist me up inside. Make me want to
prove to you that you can feel.”

Her interest deflates a bit, like her own
mind is talking her out of enjoying the moment. “I’ll just let you
down.”

“You won’t! Don’t say that shit.” I reach
over and cup her face with my free hand. “You’re letting your mind
get the better of you.”

She pulls her chin away, easing my hand from
her heated skin. “Easy for you to say, you’re not in my head.”

I lean in and capture her mouth. The touch
of our lips is gentle and brief. “So let me in. I can’t claim to be
Casanova in the bedroom, but I can promise it’s better when you let
down your defenses and allow the other person in.”

“Please. A guy who doesn’t think
his
magic wang is all I need to cure my
ills? Sure. You’re too good to be true.”

“Hiding your issues behind humor? Isn’t that
more my forte than yours?”

She bends toward the table and grabs the
die, examining the current face up side. “Weren’t we going to play
your ‘game’? Did you lose interest in quizzing me on my past sexual
exploits?”

“What am I, dead? Of course I want to hear
about sex. Lay it on me.”

She frowns at the image on the plastic.
“Nothing I can really add to this one.”

“Really? What is it?”

She leans in closer to me, our thighs now
touching on the couch. “Fellatio. Pretty basic, really.”

My cock surges, prompting me to cross my
legs to hide the reaction. Uh-huh. That wasn’t noticeable at all.
Grown men often jerk and cross their legs all of a sudden.

My voice croaks out. “Pretty basic,
huh?”

Jesus all this casual talk of sex mixed in
with heavy emotional stuff apparently makes me a bundle of
quivering testosterone.

Her killer body and sultry looks don’t help,
either. Just kiss her and get it over with already.

No way. Good things come to those who wait
and I’m willing to play this as slow as she needs. I don’t want to
be another guy she felt nothing with.

She smiles, enjoying my discomfort. “Yeah,
you know. Cock goes in, cock goes out. Lots of suction and slippery
good licking ensues…”

“Uhh…” Holy shit. What do I say to that?

“And then the inevitable happens… hot,
sticky come shoots down your throat.”

Nice! That answers the inevitable question
my dirty mind would have pondered for hours. “That sounds about
right.” My dark blue boxers hide my rock hard erection. “You’ve
covered it all. I don’t need to weigh in. Um… next roll.”

She laughs, the sound bright and happy,
unlike some of the other times she’s laughed tonight.

“God, the look on your face is priceless.
Guys are so easy to rile up.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Riling me
up?”

Katrina meets my bold gaze with one of her
own. “Maybe. But it won’t be enough. So maybe I’m just a
tease.”

“Woman, I have no doubt whatever we did
together would be ‘enough.’”

Her lips turn up at the corner. “For at
least one of us.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“And what if it is?”

Katrina

I stare into the aroused eyes of the handsome man
sitting close to me and wonder, what the hell am I doing? Sure he’s
good-looking, sure I’m attracted to him, but that’s happened to me
in the past and it came to nothing. Why do I think tonight it could
lead to more?

Because of the way he’s looking at you, you
fool. He wants to eat you up! Let go, enjoy. Stop overthinking
everything.

“Some men thrive on a challenge.” There’s an
edge to his voice, desperate and sexy as all hell.

I raise an eyebrow. “Really? In all my
various travels, I
never
would have
encountered that particular breed before, would I?”

He chuckles. “Oh come on… that just makes it
even more tempting to try. To boldly go where no man has gone
before.”

A laugh bubbles out of me at his Star Trek
quote. “I wouldn’t say that last part was true. I told you, I’ve
been with a lot of partners. Does that bother you?” Now there’s an
edge to my tone, like I’m trying to make sure he knows exactly what
he’s letting himself in for. I never want to be with a guy who
throws my past at me later in an attempt to make me feel bad.

“No. Those encounters didn’t matter.
None
of your partners mattered or you
would have felt something. Can’t you see the inherent challenge in
being
the one
? What man wouldn’t want to
be the one manly enough to make a beautiful woman enjoy sex
again?”

A blush heats my cheeks when he compliments
my looks. I admit, I know I’m attractive enough, but I’ve felt like
I’ve been defective the past ten years. Living an asexual life no
matter who I invite into my bed.

“I don’t want to disappoint you.” I finally
give in to the urge and lay a hand on his thigh. God, it feels so
good to touch a man again.

Marcus practically jerks on the couch,
obviously quite sensitive to my touch. He’s so responsive. Nice.
This could be fun.

“Who says you will?” he says softly. “Isn’t
there a greater chance of me disappointing you?”

I mold my hand over the muscle above his
knee, desperate to go higher but unwilling to tempt myself into
believing it might work with him when it hasn’t so many times
before.

“Uh… about your past.” He stammers out. “How
long has it been since you tried again? And what exactly are we
talking about — an inability to orgasm?”

“I haven’t been with anyone for two years.
And no worries. I was able to orgasm, for the most part.” I trace a
fingernail over his kneecap, just like I ached to do earlier. “But
it didn’t make a difference. I felt empty afterward. Nothing for
the person or the experience. Even the climaxes weren’t stellar…
just kind of meh. They happened and it was done.”

“Did you know your partner well?” His voice
croaks out when my hand creeps back to his thigh. “Like perhaps you
need to get to know me really well for there to be any feelings
involved?”

I remove my hand and twist to face him
fully, resisting the urge to climb onto his lap and grind over his
erection. God, I want so much to enjoy sex again… “Is that what you
want, Marcus? Rather than what we’re experiencing in the here and
now? Having ‘feelings’ for someone isn’t what I meant. I meant
enjoying the act fully, truly feeling it. Which is possible without
the trappings of love and commitment. Do you really want to get to
know me? Do I fit into the perfect mold of who you want in your
life?”

“Oh God. That was a lot of questions. Are we
going for honesty? And here I thought perhaps you were looking for
a roll in the hay to break your dry spell.”

“Nice one. Your poor attempts at humor to
save face won’t work with me. I’m onto you.”

He sighs and runs a hand up my arm, sending
little bursts of sexual awareness through me with each stroke. “You
caught that, huh?” He pauses a moment and I let the silence stretch
between us, content to wait. “You’re growing on me, okay? I thought
I wanted a career woman, someone serious in her job and driven to
succeed—like me. A woman who dresses sophisticated and is put
together in every area of her life. But what do those traits really
matter in the end? Would we have chemistry? Would she be
adventurous in the bedroom? Would she intrigue me and hold my
interest past a week?”

I smile inwardly, thinking of all the crazy
sex acts I’ve tried in my life, desperate for something to matter.
And yet none of it healed me and brought me happiness.

“Who knows? She might be all those
things—and more. You never know what life has in store for
you.”

What the hell? Are you trying to talk him
out of seducing you? Shut up already!

Marcus grabs my hips and hauls me to his
lap. “Who says I want to wait for her any longer? Why not enjoy
what life has brought to me now?”

And with that he pulls my face to his,
kissing me with a pent up passion I hadn’t known was there. My
hands find his bare chest, exploring the lean planes and tight
muscles like I’ve been dying to do since the robe came off. One
firm hand holds the back of my head lightly, tilting my face for a
deeper kiss.

A low moan sounds deep in my throat,
stirring up feelings and desires I haven’t felt in years. His
tongue pushes into my mouth and I open wide, gladly inviting him to
plunder and take what he wants. My breath hitches and my hips grind
down on his lap of their own volition.

The pressure from his hard length strokes
and rubs at my very center, despite the layers of pants and
underwear between us.

He inches up the hem of my baggie top and
the warm air caresses my skin, reminding me of how hot it’s become
in the small room. Without pausing to analyze my actions, I reach
down and draw the shirt over my head, effectively breaking our
kiss.

I toss the thin material aside and look into
Marcus’s face. An expression of awe and wonder awaits. His hands
reverently skim my waist, circling the front and back at once.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers. “I don’t
think I’ve ever seen an eight pack of abs on a woman before.” His
hands move upward, drawing a path of heat in his wake. “So smooth
and tight.” He leans closer and plants a kiss on my collar bone.
“Delicate and yet incredibly strong. You’re amazing.”

His words open something inside me. I know
I’m in good shape. I’ve been approached at the yoga studio to be a
fitness model, but never took the offer seriously. It also prompted
me to start wearing baggie shirts and forego the tanks and midriff
shirts I used to wear. I was there to workout, not draw attention
to myself.

But when he notices me I feel cherished.
Like he’s unwrapped a special gift and I’m it. “Thank you.” My
shyness comes through once again in my lowered voice.

His head pops up and he stares into my eyes.
“Don’t go hiding back into that shell of yours. I see you. The real
you. The one who became strong enough to find peace from her inner
demons. The woman who released her anger with hard work and
determination.”

Marcus’s hands drift to my back, where he
traces lightly down my spine and then outward over my tight skin.
“You… you…”

“Yes?” I ask, a lump in my throat.

“You humble me.” He kisses me again, softly
this time, with not as much passion as before. “I’ve allowed myself
to be the shallow jerk who fires out smart retorts, so I didn’t
have to face how empty my dating life had become. But you… you
dealt with your past and what happened to your sister, no matter
how hard it was for you to overcome… no matter what you lost of
yourself in the process.”