The Laws of Seduction: A French Kiss Novel (12 page)

From there the waves increased, climbing higher, stretching further, until their undulations rose with a tidal force. As he relentlessly pushed her on, Charlotte felt a charge building within her, jolting her with each impact. She gripped his shoulders and he pulled her into his arms, Rex kissing her over and over as he drew her close, his heart beating soundly against hers.

“I want to come—but not before you,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on her. “I want to watch you lose control.” He gripped her tighter, saying against her mouth, “I want to see you lose it because of me.”

“Oh God oh God . . .” she moaned, his cock buried so thoroughly inside her it seemed to fill every inch of her body. She dropped her head to his shoulder, damp from his exertion, her own breath heating her as she panted against his neck. Suddenly his hand slid between them, his fingers trailing to the intimate folds of her skin to its most sensitive spot and she jolted, sparks flying behind her eyes.

All at once Charlotte threw her head back, a wail rising up from her throat as she went rigid with the force of her release. Rex closed his eyes, finally letting loose, Charlotte’s cries sending him over the edge.

A few moments later Rex opened his eyes, smiling as looked down on her. “
Bonsoir
,” he said, tracing a finger down her cheek.

“
Ça va?
” she answered, lifting up to brush her lips against him.

“Oh,
très bien
,” he said. “Just finished making love to this beautiful woman. You ought to see her.” He smoothed back her hair. “Gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” She laughed, wriggling against him, aftershocks roiling through her from his half-flaccid cock, still within her. “Well, you ought to see who I’ve just been with. As a matter of fact . . .” She looked askance a moment. “I think you’re him.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he said, pulling himself from her as he stood up. He rolled the condom from him and tossed it in the trash, returning to kiss her just below her belly. “If I could, I’d fuck you as you are right now. Just to see that look on your face again as you were coming around me.” He slid even lower. “As a matter of fact . . .”

He spread her legs and in one swift motion sank a finger into her. Charlotte yelped, grabbing his hand, her first reaction to push it away. She was still too sensitive, still feeling the afterburn from the last rocketing orgasm he had given her. But he gave her no quarter, and inside a minute she was coming more violently than she ever had before. Rex pulled out as her hips lifted off the dresser and a spasm of pleasure ripped through her, his thumb shifting to her clit as he watched her go over the edge.

“Lovely,” he said, carrying her to the bed.

As she lay there panting, she said, “I will pay you back for that, rest assured.”

“And don’t think I won’t hold you to your word.” He climbed in beside her, kissing her neck, then long and languorously on the mouth. Then he propped his arm up and leaned over her, tracing her collarbone with his finger. “Sex with you is sure interesting.”

She eyed him warily. “Isn’t
interestin
g just a code word for
terrible
?”

“Perhaps, but I mean it just as it sounds. It
is
interesting.”

She pushed herself up, facing him. “You’re going to have to explain that.”

He waved his hand between them. “Look at us. Here we are, naked, your
chatte
no doubt still vibrating, while you’ve given me the best workout in a week.”

A wave of heat streaked through her. She slid her leg up, restoring herself to partial modesty. “Well, that’s putting it bluntly.”

“
Non
, don’t do that,” he said, nudging her knee down. “Why are you hiding yourself from me? Don’t you think we’re beyond that?”

“Okay, if that’s the way you feel.” Charlotte rolled to her back, twisting her body like a centerfold. “Is this interesting enough for you?”

“It’s certainly interesting me,” he said, throwing a leg over her. “Now, this is what I’m talking about.” He swept his hand between them. “What
we’ve
been talking about. It’s the fact we
do
talk, before, during and after sex. We’re talking now—even after. And that’s something I never do.” He leaned down, kissing her tenderly. “Something I’ve never
wanted
to do.”

She looked up, twirling a lock of hair. “You mean you usually just get up and leave?” She tsked. “That’s typical.”

“Well, it’s either that, or roll over and collapse.”

“Yeah, that’s a close second.” She peered at him. “Why do men do that?”

He laughed, propping himself up on his elbow. “Usually because they’re exhausted, but more than likely, because they’ve accomplished what they’ve come to do.”

“
Come
being the operative word,” she said dryly.

“You have no idea how true that is. Like in that old David Bowie song—
wham bam thank you ma’am
. And when they’re done? It’s either get out or go to sleep.”

She was almost afraid to ask. “Is it like that with me, too?”

“Hardly.” Then his mouth crooked with a mix of amusement and candor. “Charlotte, now that you’ve calmed down, sex with you is, well . . .
fun
.”

She wasn’t sure what to think of that, not that he gave her much time to ponder it, kissing her again. Coming from Rex Renaud, though, she supposed it would be a compliment of the highest order, and something she shouldn’t take lightly. She curled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well, thank you, Rex,” she said. “That’s the best thing you’ve said to me all day. I
think
.”

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me all day.” Then he winced. “Such a shame I have to leave you so soon.”

“Not a shame at all,” Charlotte said as she rolled off the bed. “Because I’ll be going with you.”

Chapter Twelve

Dessert

“O
H NO. FORGET
it,” Rex said, sliding to his side of the bed. “You’re not going to D.C. Absolutely not.”

“I think you should reconsider,” Charlotte said, grabbing a carton of chicken fried rice. “You know? I think this stuff tastes better cold.” She held it. “Want some?”

“
Non
,
merci
,” he said. “And don’t try to be so blasé about it. You’re still not going. You need to stay here and cover for me. If you’re not here, then we both look suspicious.”

“But if only one of us is here, then it’s worse.” She abandoned the chopsticks and switched back to a plastic spoon. “No, I’m thinking it’s better if we both go. All or nothing.”

He glanced into her carton, bypassing it for the bedside table and a spring roll. “I’d like to hear how you’d justify that.”

“Well, for starters,” she said around a mouthful of rice, “if the cops happen to come around and I’m the only one here, don’t you think they’re going to think it strange?”

“
Beurk.
” He winced, dropping the spring roll after only one bite. “These most definitely do not benefit from sitting on the nightstand for an hour. Pass me the sweet and sour pork.”

She did, but only after stealing a piece of pork. “Look, we were out all day with the car parked in the garage. I mean the cops even
saw
where we parked it. So if anyone’s keeping an eye on us, they’re already used to that scenario.”

He considered that. “So what if they’re waiting for us to leave again, and they don’t see us come out?”

“Then they’ll just think we’re in here doing what we just did because that’s what you wanted them to—oops.” She looked down, a lump of scrambled egg landing atop her left breast. As she went to pluck it off, Rex brushed her hand aside.

“Allow me,” he said, bending into her. He cupped his hand around her breast and licked it off. “There,” he said, “all cleaned up.”

“You know,” she said, “if you can make coffee, I’ll hire you.”

He gave her a quick kiss. “
Ma beauté
, for you, I’ll work for free. I’m thinking the perks more than make up for the long hours.”

“Long hours?”

“
Oui
. I mean, look at the time.” He clamped onto a wedge of pineapple. “We’ve already been at it two-three hours now, and we’ve hardly begun.” Rex sat back, drawing a leg up, his chopsticks clicking around the candied vegetables.

“You know, you wield a mean pair of chopsticks,” she said, glancing over. “Where’d you learn to do that?”

He dumped some brown rice atop the pork. “We have an office in Shanghai,” he said. “And whenever I’m there I always try to drop in at this place near Taizing Lu. They serve up a
shengjianbao
so
fantastique
it’ll make the eyes roll back in your head.” He used his chopsticks for emphasis. “You would love it, really. As a matter of fact—”

“I think you’re trying to distract me,” she said, setting down the fried rice. “There was a point I was trying to make, you know.”

“Oh?”
Click-click
. “And that was?”

“Look. You need to see the congresswoman, right?”

“
Oui
. I’m crashing her lunch with Representative Hitchell.”

She knew it was illogical, but that irked her. She never even saw the woman, but she couldn’t get the image of those two going at it out of her mind. “Really. Where?”

He frowned into the carton. “Here,
belle
, this is getting nasty.” he said, handing it to her. “Pass me the lo mein.”

“Where for lunch . . . ?”

“The Hay-Adams.” He prodded her shoulder. “The lo mein,
chérie
.”

She passed it to him. “That’s a hotel, isn’t it? Near the White House?”

“Yes, it is.” He took a quick sip of wine, then wound the chopsticks around a few noodles, dropping them into his mouth. “I’m a bit partial to their Cobb salad.” He dropped his gaze to the lo mein, frowning again. “Unlike this.”

“And I’ll bet you had many an occasion to eat it.”

“Well, I usually stay there when I’m in Washington, and it’s where Lilith and I would . . . meet.” He looked over. “I believe you’re looking a bit green, Charlotte.”

“Me? Nah.” She turned to the bedside table and plucked a spring roll from a bag of them. “It’s just interesting you’re meeting the congresswoman at the hotel you used to, well . . .” She bit into the roll, chewing with purpose.

“Hey.” He set down his carton and turned to her. “As I told you before, there’s nothing between us and there never was. Ever.”

“If you say so,” she said, still chewing.

He huffed. “I’d like to kiss you, Charlotte, so swallow.” His mouth crooked. “I know you know how to do
that
.”

She did. “Very funny.” He slipped his arm around her neck and drew her in, his mouth falling to hers.

He tasted of lo mein and Pinot, a mix of salty and sharp, and oh, how close that came to the real Rex. But what
was
the real Rex? Had she any idea? Could he really be like the side he’d shown her here tonight, the one that made her stand back and take a good look at herself, or the other, the methodically cool calculator who used sex as a business tool? She really couldn’t be sure. She needed to break through his shell as he’d broken through hers, but for right now . . . All she knew was she was starting to crave the way his kisses tasted, whether they were salty or sharp or too sweet for her own good. He broke their kiss, looking down on her, the hand resting just below her breasts, gently stroking her.

“You feel good in my arms,” he said, his face uncharacteristically relaxed.

What a nice thing to say.
“I feel good being in them.” And totally unexpected. Like her reply.

He ran his finger down her nose, shivering her. “Ever since we first met in Boston, I told myself that on my next trip to the U.S. I was going to call you. Look.” He turned to the bedside table, reaching for his billfold. He slid a card from it, handing it to her.

“Oh my,” she said. It was her business card. “How did you get this? I don’t recall giving it to you. I surely never would have in Boston.”

“You gave it to one of our lawyers,” he said. “I saw it on top of one of their portfolios and slipped it away when he wasn’t looking.”

“You did?” She laughed, taken aback. “But why?”

“Well, I was damned sure you’d never give it to me. You were hating anything with a Y chromosome that day. But you impressed me.” He took the card from her, tucking it back into his billfold.

“I wondered how you were able to get in touch with me last night. Gee.” She thought a moment. “Has it only been since yesterday?”

“And here we are,” he said as she leaned back against the pillows. He kissed her again, his leg sliding over hers.

She could feel him ratcheting up again, and she wasn’t quite ready for that, especially after what he’d just said. Could he possibly be more serious about her than she thought? Was he even capable of that? The idea both thrilled and terrified her. Rex was so different from all the men she’d ever known, yet so understanding of what she was about she could picture herself falling for him. Even so, something was lingering beneath his surface that still gave her pause, something she could quite put her finger on. Though one thing was for sure. He nipped the corner of her mouth. He sure knew his way around a kiss. She gripped his shoulders, her toes tingling as his hand slid down her leg. Quite a contradiction for a man who could be as ruthless as he was romantic.

“Um, Rex?” she said.

“
Oui, ma belle
?
” he murmured, his arms caging her, his eyes hooded.

She held up her hand, fingers still pinching the half-bitten spring roll. “I’d really like to get rid of this.”

“
Merde
. What are you still doing with that?
C’est dégueulasse
.”

“I’ll remind you the Chinese takeout was your idea.”

He glanced to each of their bedside tables, both overflowing with half-eaten cartons and trays. “I think it’s served its purpose.” His face screwed. “I’m most definitely not hungry.”

“Not even for dessert?” Charlotte said. “There’s still those éclairs downstairs.”

His face lit. “Oh. Those.” He turned to her. “The ones I’m supposed to eat off your belly?”

“Yes, those.” She climbed from the bed and slipped into her robe, plucking the big take-out bag from the floor. “Let me get rid of this, and I’ll be back with dessert. I have coffee if you’d like me to make some.”

He waved her off. “
Non
, it’ll only keep me up and I really need to get some sleep.” He glanced to her, his smile wicked. “Then again . . .”

She shoved the cartons into the bag. “I’ll see if there’s any more wine,” she said, going to his side of the table. He slid his empty containers into the bag, then reached for his phone, scrolling before he clasped it to his ear.

“Don’t be long,” he said.

But then he flashed her a look that didn’t quite say,
Will you excuse me?
but the intent was clear enough. Perhaps it was because asking for privacy after being naked together for three hours could be a bit awkward. Charlotte nearly laughed at the irony. Perhaps that little gesture was a big part of why she still held this strange liaison with the very mysterious Rex at arm’s length. In her head, at least, and most certainly in her heart. But then again, he sat at the helm of one of the world’s biggest corporations. She glanced back as he tended to a bit of business, the sheet molding his body. Yet there he was, naked in her bed.
I kind of like that
, she thought, leaving for downstairs.

The downstairs she entered into was dark except for the light thrown in from the street, and she paused, letting her eyes adjust. She hadn’t been down the shore in weeks and she’d forgotten how the autumn darkened it, being so used to it being lit late into the evening in the summer. Still, after a few moments, she didn’t see any use in turning on the lights until the bathroom. She padded into the kitchen, setting the bag on the table before she went to empty her bladder, the sensitivity from Rex’s intimate invasion duly noted. When she finished she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror as she brushed her teeth and ruffled her hair into submission. Never had she looked more thoroughly tossed
. I kind of like that, too
, she thought, turning out the light.

She noticed when she went to the kitchen the take-out bag had fallen over, disgorging its contents all over the table. “Damnit,” she muttered, shoving the leaky cartons back in. No sense dumping it into the kitchen trash to ferment, especially since she didn’t plan on being there the next day. She gathered it all up to take it to the garbage can outside.

But before she opened the door she noticed something odd out on the street. A couple doors down a car was parked on the curb opposite. She knew most everyone on both sides of the street, at least for half the short block down, and all except for the Gabaldis were summer residents. And although it was common to see people down on weekends at least until Thanksgiving, no one would be down on a Tuesday, and certainly not the occupants of the house where it sat, as they had a long driveway. She dropped the bag in the trash next to the refrigerator, and crept around to the living room for a closer look.

The living room had a side window that gave a clear view of the block and Charlotte hunkered down, trotting half bent up to it, sliding the curtain aside just enough to peek through. After a moment she could see what looked like a very expensive-looking car, with one person in the driver’s seat, and although she couldn’t quite tell, possibly another one sitting in the back, almost as if they were being chauffeured. Which was certainly strange, at least in this part of town. Although her street harbored a few professionals like herself, no one came close to that type of wealth. She let the curtain drop and crept back upstairs.

“
Bonsoir
,” Rex said, just finishing his conversation as she made it back to the bedroom. He tossed the phone to the table as she scurried in. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing her curiously.

“Shut off the light,” she said, finger pointing to the lamp at his side. She did the same to hers. “Keep down and come here,” she said, scrambling to the French doors that led to a small second-floor porch. She edged the curtain aside. “Look. There—just down the street.”

He came up beside her, opening the curtain a bit more. “Do you mean that car?”

“That’s right. And there’s someone in it.”

He looked closer. “The cops?”

“Driving
that
? Take a better look at that car. I sincerely doubt it.”

He leaned in. “There’s someone in the backseat, too.” He made a decidedly derisive sound in his throat. “What the hell—”

Just then the car surged forward and made a U-turn, taking off up the street, not turning on its headlights until it was nearly a block away.

Charlotte clutched Rex’s arm. “What the hell was that?”

He was still staring into the street. “You’re not staying here by yourself tomorrow,” he said quietly.

“So I’m going with you to D.C.,” she said, not as question.

He turned to her, looking very grave. “Apparently someone is watching us, and it’s fairly obvious it’s not
les flics
. Not unless they pay the police really, really good in this town.”

“In that car? I really don’t think so. What was that anyway?”

“A Rolls.”

“A Rolls-Royce?” She almost laughed. “Does anyone really drive them these days? I thought they were something you just saw in old James Bond movies.”

“No, believe me, people still do drive them.” He slid a hand down her arm. “Though not in your tax bracket, I’m afraid. So,” he said, looking past her. “Where’s the éclairs?”

“How can you think about éclairs when there’s someone outside stalking us. For all I know it could be one of those crazy lunatics that wanted to bomb me in Philly.”

“Wrong side,
chérie
. The only ones who could afford to stalk you in that car would be sending you flowers instead.”