The Satin Sash (26 page)

She had never had sex like this.

The sight of the males rubbing against each other, their penises coated with each other’s cum while their bodies rocked in the aftermath, their mingled tastes when she went in to lick them side by side, drop by drop . . .

She shuddered at the memory, afraid that she was getting high on their sex, too dependent and drunk on it to think straight. She could only think of touching them, being touched, or baiting them to touch each other.

She was so lost in her reverie, it took her a second to realize Heath stared into her eyes with a singular look on his face, as though she were something priceless and riveting. Her jaw rested on his warm chest, and snuggled against his side she felt unexpectedly . . . comfortable. She had no inclination to get up, but instead found her fingers too eager to sift through the little hairs between his pecs. “Where did Grey go?”

“Phone.” He gave her an enlightened smile. “Or cleaning out his closet. I don’t know.The guy’s a freak.”

Her lips curled in the ends, one playful fingertip going to circle his nipple. “I love my freak.”

He chuckled, the vibrations humming through her. “I know you do.” He skimmed his knuckles down her cheek with tender familiarity, his arm tightening around her shoulders. “And I’ll have you know I can be very freaky, too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Be afraid,Toni. Be very afraid.”

Her eyes crinkled.“I’m shaking in my undies,” she teased.When he subjected her to a thorough scrutiny, she shifted up on her elbows and asked, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black?”

“Why are you asking
me
?” At the uncertainty on his face, a laugh escaped her. “It’s either black or it isn’t,” she good-naturedly explained.

“All right. It is. Black.”

“Favorite band?”

“U2?”

“Why are you asking me!” She laughed again, both bewildered and enchanted. She was under the impression he’d have changed his answers just to please her. From such a dark, big, raw man, it was so endearing. Who would have thought Heath Solis would give a damn about what Toni thought of his choice of band? Really, what woman on earth would not want him?

“Tell me yours,” he encouraged, stacking his hands behind his head.

“I like blue and green. Fresh colors. And I like . . . well.” Her forehead furrowed as she considered. “I think I like solo singers better than bands. I like girly music.”

“Of course.”

“Madonna, Céline Dion—ooh, and I like Shakira.”

“Ahh, can you move your tushy for me like Shakira?”

“I can move my tushy all over you, Heathcliff.”

Laughing, he hauled her up so she straddled his hips, and her body responded to his nearness.The lazy smile that had been tugging at his lips faded while a sensual awareness began to creep into his gaze. His eyes shimmered like onyx as he took in her face, her shoulders, her breasts. His cock pushed into the apex of her thighs.

He wanted her.

And she wanted him. She wanted him not less than before, but more. It was slightly worrying. Before, maybe part of her attraction had to do with what Grey had told her about him. It was like being told Paris was beautiful, full of shops, romantic. It was like listening to a motivational cassette or even a doctor working you in a hypnotic trance; suddenly you wanted Paris with your entire being. It had all been Grey . . . what he said . . . and Heath had been an eclipse, a dark mystery Toni had begun to ache to unravel. But now he was less a mystery and more a real human being to her, and he was marvelous. He and Grey together were marvelous. The three of them. This trip. It was
all
marvelous.

Eyes hot as he raised his hand to stroke her face, he thrust his thumb into her mouth, dampened her lips with her saliva, then ran his thumb across her mouth with a brusque, desperate swipe. He covered her cheeks with his hands and rubbed his nose against hers. His breath seeped into her lungs when she parted her lips. “I want you all the time,” he whispered.

“I want you all the time, too.”

She slanted her mouth to his in offering, but he buried his lips in her arching neck. Her lashes fluttered shut as he tended to the area, her head tilting to give him better access. “Heath, when are you going to kiss me?”

He kissed her neck—wetting her skin, lapping it with his tongue. “I am kissing you.”

“My lips. Don’t you want to?”

“Yes.” He didn’t stop at her neck, but his warm, moist lips ventured up to nibble her chin.

“Don’t you like kissing?” she insisted. Because she was
dying
for his kiss. She had pictured it in her mind, had decided he would taste of beer and mint, and every atom in her body craved it like life.

He went to her earlobe, ran the tip of his tongue up the tender backside.Through the irregular sound of his breaths, she could barely make out his gruff words. “I have a feeling I’d like kissing you very much.”

She dropped her face and searched for his mouth with hers. “Then kiss me now.”

“No.”

“Don’t you know how to kiss?” she hissed, her leg getting tangled on the sheets as she rolled away. Grinding her teeth together in sheer frustration, she pushed at his shoulders with the heels of her palms and rose to her feet, ready to spit nails at how annoying and impossible he was.

“Son of a bitch!” He was on his feet the next instant, his hands plunging into his hair.

In a black pair of boxers, chest heaving up and down, he watched her stalk around the bed, grab her pillow, and storm out. And she stormed out of there knowing
precisely
why he was all alone in the world. Knowing exactly why no woman wanted to be with him. All that man wanted was sex!

She quickened her steps down the hallway, cursing him and herself. A part of her had hoped she’d have the nonchalance not to care whether he wanted her kiss or not, but there was no denying the awful pressure in her chest. His denial hurt.

Pushing her hair back, she stopped in the living room and wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to stifle the furious tremors shuddering down her spine. She felt so . . . so . . . so unwanted. Her lips were not at all bad to look at, and yet he tore his eyes away from them every time he saw them. She didn’t know of a man who would do the kinds of things Heath did to her and not want to kiss her!

She tensed her shoulders when she heard him breathing heavily behind her.

“Come to bed with me.”

When she didn’t respond, he curled his hand around her elbow. Though she didn’t extract her arm, she made no move to touch him, either.

Whispering, “It’s not what you think, Toni,” he caught her by the waist and pressed his lips to her neck.And he rocked her.To and fro against his body. Rocked her so she wanted to dissolve against his strength. She stiffened against the impulse.

“I don’t think you even know what I think.”

“Then maybe you don’t understand.” The fact that he was speaking to her like a child, not patronizingly, but with an odd, gruff tenderness, only wrenched the knife in her further.

“I understand perfectly. I’m your weekend screw. Not good enough to talk to and not to kiss.”

“I can’t fucking . . . argh, this is ridiculous!”

He thrust his hands up, and she shoved past him when he did. “You’re right—it is.”

Ludicrous. Ridiculous.Why did she even
care
? Why couldn’t it
not
matter whether he wanted to kiss her or not? Why didn’t Heath
feel
like just sex to her, like he was supposed to? Like she was to
him
?

“Are we having a fight?” he asked as he followed her down the hall.

She didn’t know what to reply, so she swiftly closed the door behind her. Lounging on the bed, Grey glanced up and immediately set down his Sudoku as she plopped down on the bed. “I thought you’d fallen asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She curled up against his side, cheek to chest. “I woke up with the Grinch.”

“What did that blockhead do?”

She made a grimace of distaste, not even wanting to get into it. “He’s just sour company.”

A knock came, and the door opened before anyone could invite him in. “Cat.”

“Stop calling me Cat.”

“She’s very moody when she hasn’t eaten, Heathcliff. Didn’t I warn you?”

“It’s not the goddamned food.” He stared from the door, a hand on the doorframe. His neck was flushed, his eyebrows drawn low into a furious scowl.“Kitten, I’ve never
done
pillow talk before. Can we try this again? I really want you in my bed.We can nap and we can . . . do things.”

Toni snuggled to Grey’s side while throwing Heath her fiercest look to date.

His lips turned into a thin, uncompromising line as he slapped a hand on the doorframe. “Look, I don’t know what to do with a woman if it’s not . . .”

“Take some of your own advice, Heathcliff.‘Women like words and shit.’”

“Toni,” Heath said, ignoring Grey. “Come on.”

Grey rolled his eyes, groaning to himself. “Heath, I’m feeling really, really sorry for you.”

Toni snuggled closer to Grey, mumbling,“Just bring your pillow.”

Less than a minute later, he stormed inside with a look that dared anyone to contradict him. He fluffed up his pillow beside her, snorted when satisfied, and then he spooned her.The room started to darken as the sun set.

“Anyone up for dinner?” Toni queried.

“I’m up for sleeping,” Grey murmured.

Cuddling between the two men, she was about to drift off to sleep when Heath snagged her earlobe between his teeth and rasped, “I’m up for sex.”

Chapter Eleven

The next morning she found them having breakfast in silence, and although she said good morning, they didn’t seem to hear. She went directly to the coffeepot, noticing across the counter as she poured a cup for herself that they’d already filled their cups.

Two large males at the breakfast table could’ve been incongruous, but it felt so right, like a family. She warmed all over as she watched their hands. Both long, Heath’s more callused than Grey’s as he cradled his cup in one hand. She walked over, snatched the bread crust from Grey’s plate, and rumpled his hair on her way to her seat.

“Didn’t your nannies teach you to clean your plate?”

He looked up, smiling. “I was always a very good boy. I ate all my spinach.”

“You hate spinach.”

“They made me hate it.” He folded the morning paper, ran a finger across the back of her ear, tucking a chestnut curl back. “How do you feel?” he asked thickly.

She leaned back contentedly, taking a sip. Outside, the day was clear, the skies blue—a day that promised to be special. “I feel great.”

“Get over here.” The chair legs screeched as she obediently rose, and he drew her down to his lap and kissed her lips. “Good morning.”

She petted his morning stubble and whispered,“Good morning.”

“Do I get one of those?”

Her eyes flicked to Heath’s. Unlike Grey, he was unsmiling this morning, intense, his eyes liquid coals. “Of course.”

She made her way to him, her attention zeroing in on those pink, luscious lips of his. Just when she was going to give him a peck, he hauled her down on his knee and lightly bit around her chin. “I think I’ll have you with my pancakes.”

The way he looked at her lips made her tremble.

He was a great listener, he was a great lover, he was great fun in bed.Why didn’t he kiss her?

“What’s your favorite breakfast ever, Heath?” she queried, linking her fingers behind his nape.

“I think it’s going to be you.” He glanced up at Grey. “May I?”

“Bon appétit.”

Toni squeaked when he jumped to his feet. “Heath! Señor Gonzalez is somewhere around the house,
mopping
! You’ll have to wait for dinner.”

He winked. “Or breakfast in bed.”

She stuck her tongue out and wiggled free, then went back to her seat and coffee. “I thought we could do something interesting tonight, since Heath is leaving tomorrow,” she said with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

She didn’t like it when she thought of him leaving, of never seeing him again, never having sex like theirs again.

Trying to determine the impact of her words, she peered up at him through her lashes, but he’d dropped his face to his plate, uncharacteristically pensive. Grey was reading the newspaper—looking at the pictures, actually, and making his own deductions, because she knew he didn’t speak Spanish.

“Do you want to go clubbing?” she insisted.

Heath forked up several slices of pancake and shoved them into his mouth. Grey sipped coffee.

“Heath?” Grey finally asked, lifting an eyebrow at him.

Heath shrugged. “Whatever Toni wants.”

The fact that he did not meet her gaze made her shift restlessly in the chair. She stroked the length of a spoon.“Well, we could have drinks,” she said,“and we could dance, and then we could . . . come back and have more fun.”

Grey made a face Toni had seen plenty of times before.“Dancing.”

“I know you hate dancing, but maybe Heath will dance with me.We’ve danced before, remember, Heath?”

Heath said nothing, did nothing but scowl at his food. They were both being sour, and she bristled with annoyance. She wanted tonight to be special, and they were ruining all of her plans with their surly dispositions, particularly Heath.

“Will you dance with me, Heath?” she insisted. “It’ll be fun
.
”
I want you to remember this forever.
Selfishly, she thought,
I want you to remember me
.

All she got as a reply was, “If I’m drunk enough.”