Show & Tell (9 page)

Apparently, the realization had hit Savannah as well. Her lips had flattened into an adorably mulish expression. Knox felt his lips twitch. He knew that look—heaven knows he'd seen it often enough—and it meant watch your back.

“Is there anyone who hasn't reported?” Rupali asked.

“Knox and Barbie haven't,” Marge replied helpfully. Knox gritted his teeth and smiled at her.

“Well, Knox and Barbie,” Rupali said. “How did it go?”

Knox looked to Savannah, hoping in her ire, she'd step up and answer the question. For all appearances
she smiled encouragingly, but Knox saw the evil humor dancing in that ice-blue gaze. Her look clearly said, “You made your bed, now lie in it.”

“We, uh, worked on the trust exercise so much that we only got the r-root chakra unblocked,” Knox reported. From the corner of his eye, he saw Savannah's eyes narrow fractionally. Obviously, she didn't appreciate taking the blame for their poor performance.

“Don't be so modest, baby,” Savannah said sweetly. “Tell the rest.”

The rest? Knox wondered as his breakfast curdled in his stomach. His smile froze. “That's private, pumpkin,” he all but growled through gritted teeth. He had absolutely no idea what she was talking about, but instinctively knew she intended to humiliate him. Royally.

“Nothing is private here, Knox,” Rupali reminded with a smile. “Truth and healing, remember? You obviously have something to be proud of. Barbie is proud. Please share,” she encouraged gently.

“I—”

“Oh, very well,” Savannah said, with a humbly mysterious look about the room. “I'll tell them.” She paused dramatically. “After we unblocked Knox's root chakra—which took a great deal of time because of his tight-ass tendencies—he got an
erection!
”

This theatrical announcement was met with a mass
of delighted oohs and aahs and a spattering of applause.

Savannah clasped her hands together excitedly and looked meaningfully around at everyone. “It lasted for almost
two whole minutes!
”

She was evil, Knox thought as he felt his face flame with embarrassment. Evil. And he would make her pay. With a grand show of delighted support, Savannah grabbed hold of his arm and pressed close to him. “I'm so very proud of you, baby.”

Edgar and Rupali beamed at him. “That's indeed something to be proud of, Knox. Congratulations on your erection.”

Knox had been congratulated for many things over the years, but he could truthfully say that having a man congratulate him on an erection was a wholly new experience. A couple of the truly impotent men glared enviously at him.

“Er, thank you,” he muttered self-consciously.

Beside him, Savannah sighed with sublime satisfaction, the faux picture of wifely adoration.

Rupali threaded her fingers through her husband's. “This is precisely why we have opened our home and hearts, why we decided to start this clinic. So that impotent men like Knox can come and reclaim their masculinity. With harmony and truth healing and the art of tantric ritual, perhaps he will be able to surpass even this breakthrough and lead his lover to climax.” She gave Savannah an enigmatic look. “I don't think your problem lies in the lower chak
ras, Barbie. You will learn what I mean, and I would appreciate your telling me when it happens.”

Looking somewhat startled, Savannah merely nodded. Now what did Rupali mean by that? Knox wondered. After a moment, he leaned over and asked Savannah.

She shook her head, clearly bewildered. “I have no idea.”

“Well, tell me when it happens. I want to know, too.”

“Oh, hell, Knox, you know as well as I do that nothing is going to happen.”

“Now how would I know that?” he replied sardonically. “Just think about me and my whopping two-minute erection.”

She had the nerve to laugh. “Save your indignation. After this morning, you deserved it.”

“I wasn't the only one copping a feel,” Knox replied, somewhat miffed. “And I wasn't the one who was so horny I had to masturbate during my bath to get some relief.”

Her head jerked around and her stunned gaze found his.

“Yeah, that's right,” he said with a crafty grin. “I know.”

He had to give her credit—she recovered well. She blew out a disbelieving breath. “Don't be ridiculous. Honestly, Knox, the size of your ego never ceases to amaze me. I—”

“It wasn't the size of my ego that sent you into
the bathroom and had you slipping your finger into—”

“Shut up,” she said, squeezing her eyes tightly closed.

Knox tapped his finger thoughtfully against the chin. “Come to think of it, I think that was a violation of the rules. Perhaps I should report
your
climax—seeing as you're frigid and that would be a breakthrough,” Knox threatened. “Then the whole room could applaud you and celebrate your orgasm.”

“I'm sorry,” she hissed.

“What?”

“I'm sorry, dammit.”

He eyed her, his gaze lingering on her guarded expression. “Just what exactly is the problem?” Knox wanted to know, serious now. “What have I done—besides making you do this story—that has you alternately assaulting my character and my ego?”
Why don't you like me?
he demanded silently.

Why can't I charm you? For the love of God, why do I even care?

She swallowed. “Nothing. It's my problem, not yours.”

Oh, no. That was the closest thing to a personal admission she'd ever made and he had no intention of letting her get away with not finishing the thought.

“What is it?”
he pressed.

“We don't have time to go into this right now,” Savannah hedged. She tucked her hair behind her
ears. “Trust me, it's nothing. You're right. I've been unfair.”

“If it was nothing, you wouldn't want to go for my throat every time the opportunity presented itself. Spill it, Savannah. I've got a right to know.”

“Y-you remind me of someone, that's all.”

“I remind you of someone,” Knox repeated. “Who?”

Seemingly embarrassed, she huffed a breath and refused to look at him.

“A guy?” Knox guessed, annoyed beyond reason.

“Yes,” she finally relented. “A guy. Are you happy now?”

No, he wasn't. He was anything but happy. “If I remind you of a guy and it's not a good thing, then one could logically deduce that this particular guy was a bastard who broke your heart. Am I right?”

“He did not break my heart,” Savannah insisted icily. “I hadn't given him my heart to break.”

No, only her trust, Knox realized, which any moron should have realized was almost as precious as her heart. “Do I look like him?”

“No.”

“Do I act like him?”

Her shoulders slumped with an invisible weight. “I'd made myself believe that you did. But you don't.”

Knox scowled, hopelessly confused. “If you no longer believe I act like him, then what's the problem?”

She emitted a low, frustrated growl. “Being here with you, this whole workshop…” She gestured wildly. “How am I supposed to stay out of the bathroom,” she said meaningfully, “and not do what I—”

“Masturbate?”

“—did, when I'm here with
you
and we're surrounded by sex, sex and more sex?” Her voice climbed. “How am I supposed to think about anything else with all this talk of orgasms and erections and—”

Understanding suddenly dawned and Knox felt a self-satisfied grin spread across his lips. “You want me.”

She shot him a dark look. “I didn't say that.”

Something warm and tingly moved through his rapidly swelling chest.
“You want me.”

She paused. “Don't look so proud of yourself. I'd want just about anybody under the circumstances.”

“Yeah…but you're not here with
anybody.
You're here with
me.
”

“Brilliant deduction, Einstein.”

“Would it make you feel any better if you knew I was having the same problem?”

She snorted. “Don't lie. You've already told me that the reason you brought me here was because you
weren't
attracted to me.”

“Things have changed.”

“Yes, I'm sure they have. You're a man and you've decided to make do with whomever is avail
able. Which happens to be me. Meanwhile, neither one of us has any business being attracted to the other because we're here to do a job. And we can't truly do that job correctly unless we have sex, so it really is a screwed-up conundrum, isn't it, Knox?”

Another thought surfaced and suddenly everything became clear. “Ahh,” Knox said with a knowing twinkle. “You wanted me
before
we left Chicago. That's why you didn't want to come. That's why you were so determined not to attend this workshop with me.”

“Keep this up, you cocksure moron. You're quickly losing your appeal.”

Savannah promptly stood and followed the rest of the group to the classroom, leaving Knox to glow with her revelation.

Savannah Reeves wanted him…and apparently always had. What to do with this new information? Knox wondered. Just exactly what the hell was he supposed to do? She'd told him for a reason—she hadn't just dropped this little bomb without some inkling of the consequences.

Did she expect him to be a hero and abstain, or was she simply putting the ball into his court? Did she want him to take the sexual lead, so that any blame could be laid squarely on him when this weekend was over?

Knox didn't know, but he knew he'd better figure it out. Otherwise, he feared he might single-handedly be responsible for Savannah never trusting a man again.

S
AVANNAH COULDN'T BEGIN
to imagine what had possessed her to all but admit that she'd been lusting after him for a year, but once the burn of humiliation cooled, she knew she'd undoubtedly feel better. It would be a relief not to have to pretend that she didn't want him. Since he'd deduced what had occurred during her bath last night, Savannah thought with a rueful grin, she hadn't been doing such a great job of pretending otherwise anyway.

He'd seen right through her.

The only reason she'd been able to hide the truth as long as she had was because she'd made a point of avoiding him.

But she couldn't avoid him here.

He was everywhere.

In her mind, in her mouth, beneath her hands, in her room, even in her bed.

Everywhere.

She couldn't escape him and was rapidly losing her resolve to try. The attraction had simply become bigger than she could handle, more than she could conceivably take on. She'd been doomed from the
moment Chapman, the vengeful bastard, had forced her to come on this ill-conceived trip. No, Savannah thought with a dry chuckle, she'd been doomed from the moment she'd met Knox. It had all been simply a matter of time before she'd fall victim to his lethal appeal and her equally lethal attraction.

Knox sat down on the padded mat next to her. The hairs on her arms prickled at his nearness, seemingly drawn like a lodestone to him. For reasons she didn't dare dwell on, all of the chairs had been removed from the room and had been ominously replaced with big cushy mats.

“Have they started yet?” Knox whispered low.

God, she even loved the sound of his voice. It was deep and smooth and moved over her like an old blues tune. Could she get any more pathetic? “Not yet,” Savannah finally managed.

Confusion cluttered his brow. “What are the mats for?”

“Dunno.”
And don't care to speculate,
Savannah thought.

Knox glanced idly around the room. “Well, at least we know they aren't going to ask us to do it yet. That doesn't happen until tomorrow.”

Tomorrow.
The word hung between them and conjured a combined sense of anticipation and doom. Savannah didn't dare let herself think about what would happen tomorrow afternoon after they'd completed their so-called tantric-lovemaking training, and were sent to their room armed with that knowl
edge and a long night ahead of them. She supposed they should work on the story that they'd come here to get, but without actually having tried tantric sex to see if it truly worked, she didn't know how exactly they were supposed to do that.

When they'd first arrived, doing a fair article without participating in tantric sex seemed plausible. Now it didn't, and she could no longer tell if that idea was a product of journalistic integrity or sheer unadulterated lust. Probably a combination of both, Savannah decided.

With a sexy curl of his lips, Knox shifted on his mat and leaned closer to her. “I know this is going to sound strange,” he confided, “but I'm starting to like this
kurta.
It's extremely comfortable. Feels good. I like being…unrestricted.”

Savannah felt her lips twitch and tried not to think of which part of him was so friggin' unrestricted. Clearly he'd decided to torture her with his new information. His effort was redundant—she couldn't possibly want him any more. “It's a progressive-thinking man who can admit that he likes wearing a dress.”

“It's not a dress,” Knox corrected amiably. “It's a
kurta,
and if they have them in the gift shop, you can bet your sweet ass I'm buying one and taking it home.”

Savannah chuckled drolly. “If you wear it anywhere but at home, I would strongly advise you to put on some underwear.” She looked pointedly—
longingly
—at his crotch. “Your entire package is plainly visible through the fabric.”

“So is yours,” he murmured suggestively. “Tell me, is that little star-shaped thingy on your right butt cheek a mole or a birthmark?”

He'd studied her ass that closely, eh? Swallowing her surprise, Savannah said, “It's a birthmark.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “I thought as much.”

Before Savannah could ponder that enigmatic comment any longer, the Sheas stood before the class and called order to the room.

“This morning we're going to teach some of the finer points of erotic massage,” Edgar said. “Now, so that you understand the difference, erotic massage and genital massage aren't the same thing. We will cover those genital areas that bring such pleasure tomorrow, in
Love His Lingam
and
Sacred Goddess Stimulation.
I'm sure you are all looking forward to that,” Edgar said with a small smile.

“What we're going to show you today, however,” he continued, “will be how to heighten full-body awareness to bring ultimate pleasure. There are other areas of our bodies that enjoy touch. Our faces, for instance. Which is where we'll begin. We'll take our time about this, so that both partners can enjoy the exercise. To get the full enjoyment of this lesson, the receiver should be nude; however, we will leave that option up to each of you.” He smiled encouragingly. “Men, you shall be givers first.”

Nude? Savannah thought frantically as the couples
around them swiftly began to disrobe, including the Sheas. Savannah watched in fascinated horror as Edgar and Rupali casually slipped out of their
kurtas
.

“Givers sit crossed-legged and cradle your receiver's head in your lap,” Edgar said.

Knox shrugged loosely, heaved a resigned breath and moved to draw his
kurta
over his head. He wore the slightest, sexiest grin, and those slumberous dark green eyes glinted with wicked humor and hidden sin.

“What the hell are you doing?” Savannah hissed, her heart beating wildly in her chest. “You don't have to get undressed. Clothing is optional.”

“And I'm opting to come out of it.” His lips tipped into a slow, unrepentant grin. “When I'm the receiver, I don't want anything between your hands and my skin.”

His words sent gooseflesh skittering across her own skin. Nevertheless, unreasonable though it may be, she only wanted him naked with her. Not with a roomful of observers. A wee bit possessive, but she couldn't help herself. Her eyes narrowed. If even one of these sexually repressed sluts so much as looked at him, she'd break their fingers.

“Then you can be nude in our bedroom,” she said icily. “But not here.”

He paused, something shifted in his gaze and he smiled knowingly. “Ah, so you want me nude all to yourself?”

Did he have to be so arrogantly perceptive? Sa
vannah thought with a stab of irritation. Was she that transparent? “What I want is for you to leave your clothes on,” she told him, struggling to keep her patience.

“Knox? Barbie? Is there a problem?” Rupali asked.

To Savannah's continued mortification, the whole nude room turned to stare at them. “Uh, no. We're fine, thanks.”

“There is no shame in flaunting our nude bodies,” Rupali said with that misty tone. “We were created to delight in their perfect design. The human form is art in motion. You will find no judging eyes here.” With a melancholy smile, she gestured to herself. “My own body is growing old and wrinkled. My breasts aren't as firm as they used to be, nor my stomach as flat.” She straightened. “But I am proud, because this is the body I live in, and I am beautiful to myself.”

Savannah envied the woman's confidence. In an age where the words
thin
and
youthful
defined beauty, Rupali could look at herself and feel imperfect but proud. How often had Savannah looked into the mirror and thought,
If only my breasts were larger? If only my thighs were thinner?

Be that as it may, she was still just modest enough not to want to get naked in front of a roomful of strangers. Savannah summoned a wobbly smile. “II'd prefer to stay dressed.”

Rupali nodded. “As you wish.”

Everyone settled into the required position at Edgar's instruction. “Let's begin with a scalp massage,” Edgar told them. “Be sure and ask your receiver what feels good to her. What she likes. Learn what makes your lover feel good and commit it to memory. Trust me,” Edgar laughed. “You will reap the benefits of your effort tenfold.”

Knox slid his fingers into her hair and began to knead her scalp with strong little circling movements. Savannah couldn't help herself, the audible moan of pleasure slipped past her smiling lips before she could stem it.

“Like that, do you?” Knox asked. She'd closed her eyes, but could hear the humor in his voice.

“Indeed, I do,” she sighed softly.

Savannah had always enjoyed having her hair washed at her hairdresser's, had always found it relaxing, but she couldn't begin to compare that crude rubdown to the sensation of having Knox's warm, blunt-tipped fingers manipulating her tense scalp. The light scratch of fingernails, the strong press of his fingertips swirling over her head, lulled her. He caressed every inch from her hairline at her forehead, to the very nape of her neck, where tension had the tendency to gather. She hadn't anticipated this to be such an erotic experience, but a warm sluggish heat had begun to wind through her seemingly boneless body, proving her wrong.

“Let's move on, class,” Edgar said, to Savannah's supreme disappointment. “Givers, move your atten
tion to your receiver's face. So much emotion, so much feeling is transmitted through the muscles of our face. Consider the smile and the frown. These muscles, too, need attention. Caress your lover's face, and, remember, be sure to ask her what she likes,” Edgar reminded. “Watch for what makes her feel good.”

Savannah smothered a sigh of satisfaction when she felt Knox's big warm hands cradle her face, felt them slide over her cheeks as he mapped the contours of her face. He smoothed his fingers over her closed lids, slid a thumb over the curve of her eyebrow, down her nose.
Heavenly,
she thought as another smile inched across her lips.

Knox brushed the back of his hand down the slope of her cheek. That move was more tender, more reverent, and somehow more personal than the others. Savannah longed to open her eyes, to look into his, and see if she could discover any inkling of his present thoughts, but the idea was no sooner born than abandoned, because Knox suddenly slid his thumb over her bottom lip.

Savannah had the almost irresistible urge to arch her neck, open her mouth and suck that thumb. She so desperately wanted to taste him that any part would do, and this particular part was most readily available. She settled for licking her lips after his finger had moved on, searching for even the smallest lingering hint of him.

To her immense gratification, she heard the breath
stutter out of Knox's lungs, felt a slight tension creep into his touch. He shaped her face once more with his hands, slid them down her arched throat and back up and around again. His touch grew slower yet more deliberately sensual. Savannah struggled to keep her breathing at a normal respiration, but it was getting considerably more difficult with each passing second.

Desire weighted her limbs and something hot and needy unfurled low in her belly, arrowed toward her wet and pulsing sex. She pressed her legs together and bit back the urge to roll over, scale his magnificent body and impale herself on the hard throbbing length of him.

If he could turn her into a quivering lump of lust with a scalp and face massage, just exactly how would she manage to control herself when he moved on to other erogenous zones? She wouldn't be able to bear it, Savannah decided. She simply—

“Before we continue,” Edgar said, interrupting Savannah's turbulent thoughts, “let's change positions. Both the men and women need to find out how it feels to touch and be touched.”

“Couples tend to get carried away as this lesson progresses,” Rupali chimed in with a dry chuckle. “Please go ahead and change positions.”

A reprieve, Savannah thought, profoundly relieved. As she sat up, she glanced at Knox and her gaze tangled with his. His eyes were dark and slumberous and a knowing, self-satisfied twinkle danced in those wickedly arousing orbs. The wretch knew
exactly what he'd been doing to her, knew that he'd lit a fire in her loins that only a blast from his particular
hose
would put out.

Savannah narrowed her eyes into a look that promised retribution and more. Nobody set her on fire, then failed to get burned.

He would pay. With pleasure.

 

K
NOX HAD SEEN
that look in Savannah's eye before and knew it boded ill, undoubtedly for him. A flush of arousal tinged her creamy skin and her eyes were as hot as a blue flame. He'd known what he'd been doing to her during that massage, known that he'd lit her up.

Who would have ever thought that something as simple as a scalp and face massage could ignite such a blazing fuse of sexual energy? He'd listened to her little purrs of pleasure, felt her alternately go limp with relaxation and then vibrate with tension.

It had been the most singularly erotic sensation Knox had ever had.

Knox had been sexually active since his early teens. His sexual experiences had run the gamut of the highly romantic, to the down and dirty, and all species in between. He'd been drizzled in chocolate and licked clean, had eaten grapes from the pale pink folds of a woman's sex, had done it in a cab, in an elevator, and once in the bathroom of his dentist's office.

Yet, for all of his vast experience, nothing had
prepared him for the complete and total, all-consuming need he felt for Savannah. With each touch he'd become more aroused, more hungry for her. Feeling the delicate planes of her face beneath his hands, the soft swell of those lush lips, the sweet curve and soft skin of her cheek beneath his knuckles…