The Satin Sash (28 page)

She wanted to throw up.

Stumbling out of the booth, she dove across the crowd. Her vision was blurred as she shoved her way through the throng of people, her mind spinning with images, obscene images of that kiss, of Heath.

She hated him. She hated his eyes and his smiles and all of Heath Solis. She hated that her eyes stung and tears of frustration threatened to spill. She went straight for the doors, unsteady on her blasted four-inch heels, until a hand on her arm seized her.

“Where you going, pet?”

“Home!”

“Where’s Heath?”

“Heath can go to hell!” She stormed outside with Grey following, a cool breeze blasting her face when she hit the sidewalk.

“What did he do?” He whirled her around, his eyebrows drawn menacingly low. “What did he do to you,Toni?”

“Apparently, Ms. Kearny here thinks I’m only good for seconds.”

She bristled against the sound of his voice coming up behind her, near the bouncers by the entrance.

“I didn’t know I was for her exclusive use this weekend,” Heath went on in a sneering voice she instantly hated as much as the rest of him.

“Exclusive use!” she scoffed.

With his usual grace and self-possession, Grey spoke to the valet and guided her forward. Seconds later, their driver pulled up with the limo. She wrestled her arm free. “He’s crass and embarrassing. He practically violated a poor girl on our table. Before she knew what hit her, she’d been ravaged by this . . . this . . .”

“Bastard,” Heath said wryly.

“Heath,” Grey warned.

She gritted her teeth as the three of them got into the car. She’d hoped this evening would be special, something the three of them would remember as fun and sexy and cherish in their memories. What a nitwit! Romanticizing her dirty little ménage weekend with a perverted, horrible jerk like Heath.

Sitting across the limo from her and Grey, Heath gazed out the window, his jaw flexing. Toni couldn’t believe she’d once thought nice things about him. She wanted to take her shoe off and fling it at him—and then at herself because it should not even matter!

“She’s pissed because it wasn’t her I kissed,” Heath told Grey as the car lurched forward into the streets.

“Hah! Like I’d want your tongue in my mouth.”

“You’re dying for it.”

“By all means, keep deluding yourself.”

They fell silent, and Heath’s barely leashed fury was like a tangible force around him.Toni could feel it calling to hers, daring her to fight, inciting her to a death match.The shadows in the interior of the car flickered with passing lights as Toni directed her attention at Grey, who seemed to be assessing the situation.“He almost drew blood from that girl’s mouth—he kissed her like some demented wild man,” she told him.

“Did he?”

“Yes! She was just some stranger. I doubt he’d even remember her face if I showed her to him. He just grabbed the first thing that came strolling by. He’s not even selective.”

Grey had been stroking her hand between both of his when he paused and without inflection said, “I asked Heath not to kiss you, Toni. If that’s what’s bothering you.”

“Of course it’s not—what do you mean?”

Grey’s words were so unexpected that for a moment she didn’t register them. She glanced from one man to the other, humiliation spreading through her. Her voice was full of indignation when the meaning sank in.“You mean he could do all sorts of dirty things to me, and the most basic—”

“Yes,” Grey interrupted.

“Why?”

He wore that cautious, assessing look he got when she was starting to get pissed and he was determining what to do with her. “To keep it under control,” he said calmly, reaching for her hand.

She was stupefied and folded her arm protectively around her chest to avoid contact. “What else did you give him—lines to rehearse?”

Grey groaned.

“What did you offer him—a medal for obedience? Instructions on how to fuck me like a robot?”

“Work yourself into a fine temper, Toni, why don’t you?”

“Oh, I am. I definitely am, Grey. Do I have your permission to do that, or will this display of emotion be too much for you to bear?”

“You can do anything you want.You always do, and I sure as hell have never stopped you.”

“Of course you haven’t. I’m not Mr. Loyal Dog of theYear right over there.”

She watched Heath’s jaw bunch, his entire body coil as if to spring, and she was not yet satisfied. She didn’t recognize this person: a woman who wanted to tear her nails into him.The twisting sensation in her stomach seemed to intensify in the closed confines of the car, because she was acutely, angrily aware of him. He’d wanted to hurt her.The realization that he had done it on purpose only intensified the blow.

“Well, Grey? Can I kiss her?” Heath asked without a hint of emotion, turning to meet her accusing gaze.

Grey stared rigidly out the window, tapping a finger restlessly on his knee.Whatever he was thinking of, it did not seem pleasant, but Heath seemed to take his silence as a yes. He patted his lap, his voice deceptively serene considering the bright, eerie lights in his eyes.

“Come here, Toni. I’m more than ready to give you exactly what you’re itching for.”

She fisted her hands at her sides. “I’m itching to slap you. Both of you.”

“You’re itching to have my mouth on yours, and I’m going to give it to you. Come get your kiss, kitten.”

“Not with the same tongue you put inside that . . . that . . .”

“That juicy pussy of yours.”

She tensed in her seat.

He stretched an arm out, palm up. She had never heard him speak so harshly, had never fully understood how dangerous he could be until he stared at her this moment. He looked uncivilized and ready to do damage—the gleam in his eyes was as grim and brutal as the iron edge in his words. “Come here. I’m going to tongue you so hard you won’t be able to breathe, much less continue to speak.”

“Fuck you, Heath.”

“All right, that’s enough! Both of you.”

“Fuck you, too, Grey!”

All those times she had begged for a silly, stupid kiss from Heath, he’d been playing Grey’s obedient little dog.And Grey! The control freak. So calm. Like a god. Nonchalantly notifying her of the fact:
I told him not to kiss you.
Damn them both, and damn her for letting it hurt so bad.

When they arrived at the house, Grey pulled her into a shadowed nook down the corridor.

“Toni . . .”

“Don’t ‘Toni’ me!”

“You’re getting too worked up over a kiss, princess. Take it if you want it.”

She yanked free of his hold, her gaze shooting bullets at him. “Don’t talk to me, Grey.”

“Antonia.”

“I don’t care if you want to control your schedule, the room temperature, and the way you organize your freaking clothes, but don’t ever try to control me again! I may like it in bed, but I assure you I don’t like it outside of it.”

“I know,” he said with a solemn nod that only served to increase her anger tenfold.

She bumped into a rigid chest when she spun around. A straining blue vein trekked up Heath’s throat, his body motionless as a statue. He was so tense, so still, so vividly
craving
her kiss, she could feel the waves coming off him like blankets of fire. It had festered between them, this elusive, stupid, silly kiss, and now the need for it felt violent. It would be a kiss that would bleed, and Toni would bite her tongue before she let him have it.

She tried going around him but he lifted a hand, sank his fingers into her hair as he lowered his lips. “Give me my kiss.”

She slammed her palm into his chest, aware of his hand trembling. “No!”

He tightened his hold on her hair, muscles flexing on his face. “Give it to me.”

“Don’t touch me, Heath, or I swear I’ll get sick all over you.”

“Give. Me. My fucking. Kiss.”

“I said no.”

He let go of her and left his hand open in the air, as though it itched, as though he couldn’t close it. And he gritted, “Then give it to Grey.”

 

Heath wanted to pound something. The wall. The mirror. Oh yes, the mirror—seven years of bad luck. He welcomed it. Any other kind of pain except this one.

He adjusted his nuts inside his pants, feeling pain when he touched them, then grabbed the phone on the nightstand and punched some numbers, checking for flights to Chicago. He had to get out of here, get a grip on himself, get far and fast and away from Toni.

When he hung up, Grey stood by the window, his profile chiseled with shadows from the night.

“Booking a flight?”

“Yes.”

His friend. His only friend. Heath did not like the fact that he was
considering
hurting him over a woman. He did not like questioning his loyalty to him. Heath had always known, in his heart, that the day he went against Grey, life as he knew it was over.

Grey tucked his hands in his pockets and spared a distracted glance at the room in general. “So.”

With that single word, Grey waited for Heath to speak. It was an opening. Heath took it.

“She’s nothing to me. Nothing. I can goddamn kiss whoever the fuck I please.”

When Grey remained pensive, Heath slapped his wallet on the nightstand. He wanted to punish her for not being his, for calling him a loyal dog, for pushing him until he felt like cracking. He wanted to pound and pound and pound Toni until she screamed
Heath
!

“Do you want to go grovel with me?” asked Grey, regarding him as though he thought Heath might actually say yes
.
“It’s not that bad. Once you get a smile, you know you’re safe and feel such a sweet victory.”

Heath met his gaze in stony silence. Apologize. For what? For wanting her? For not being able to have her? “I am not fucking sorry.”

“I am,” Grey admitted, raking a hand through his hair.“She had a right to know what I asked of you.” He flexed his shoulders, visibly restless. “I had no right to set terms she didn’t know about.” He fixed Heath with one of his most commanding looks. “Let’s apologize, Heath. Then we can make love to her.”

No. Not make love. Heath would fuck her. He would rape her lips with his, force his kiss on her, force his tongue right into her, search everywhere in her mouth. And even then he wouldn’t be done with her—oh no, not nearly. He’d just be getting started with his pillaging, because then he wanted the rest of her, every inch his.

The sound of slamming drawers from the other room echoed within the walls of his.

Heath kicked his shoes off, heard them plop against the marble. “She’s all yours, Grey,” he said, lying back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.

Another slam reverberated, followed by Grey’s long, lingering chuckle. “Ah, I do like a good handful.” From the threshold, he sent an admiring look in his friend’s direction and said,“You know, sometimes I envy you, Heath.You don’t need anything but yourself. You don’t crave money; you don’t depend on luxury for comfort. You don’t give a shit what people think.”

Heath managed to keep his grunt to himself, all while thinking Grey was wrong. Heath had nothing. His days came and went. His life came and went. All because he kept leaving, avoiding rejection. He left, he moved on, the few acquaintances he made forgotten. If he didn’t want anything, he wouldn’t care if he wasn’t wanted. But he wanted Toni. He wanted that rosy-cheeked girl, and even fantasized at this very moment about tearing her away from the one person he’d always cared for—Grey. Nobody,
ever
, had made Heath want to hurt Grey.

When Heath did not reply and continued dwelling on his grim thoughts, Grey said, “The door’s open, Heath.”

Heath propped a pillow behind his head, bracing himself for the sounds of their lovemaking. Soon they filtered through the hall. Murmurs. Words. Heath dropped his arm over his eyes and drew in a breath.

Then he heard it.A little moan. His chest caved in on itself.Another one. So tiny. Only in the dead silence of the house could he hear it. Grey’s deeper, pleasured groan. He squeezed his eyes shut, furious at the jagged sound of his own breathing.

She could never be his. The knowledge destroyed him, frustrated him, made him feel helpless. He cursed and lunged to his feet. She was his for this weekend, damn it.

Out in the hall, he pushed at the slit of their bedroom door, widening the opening.

Grey’s body covered hers on the bed. He was still dressed in his dark shirt and slacks. His hips circled between her parted legs, his head moving over hers. He was kissing her lips—those lips Heath wanted—and then he was draping one of her legs around him, his hand stroking her ankle. “Kiss me back, Antonia. . . .”

A whimper. Of protest.

“I’ve admitted it: I’m a greedy bastard. I wanted this mouth to be just mine.”

Heath pushed a bit more at the door to enter, and the hinges screeched. Everything went still. Even Heath’s heart.

In a smooth, startling move, Grey rolled on the bed and sat her up, facing the doorway. She squeaked as though stunned and her eyes fluttered open. They glowed in the shadows. In the light streaming from the hall, he saw every luscious inch of her. She wore a gauzy white peignor buttoned from her neck down that showed her nipples and had a bit of lace around her neck. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders in a shimmering cascade, and in a swift jerk Grey pulled her arms above her head. She gasped, her breasts stretching the sheer fabric, pushed up and into it. Her nipples created two tiny, dark bumps.

Her eyes were glazed, and she didn’t look angry but lost. So lost. So well-kissed.

Heath could not breathe.

He came forward, watched his sun- roasted hand engulf her soft cheek. What could he say?
I’m sorry? For being rough. For wanting more than what you can give. For losing my mind. Sorry you belong to Grey. Please give me my kiss.