The Things She Says (10 page)

“But it’s okay with other women?”

She screwed up her face adorably. “Yep. Definitely hold back with other women. Actually, I’d recommend not having sex with anyone besides me ever again.”

Adorable and dangerous. Dangerously addicting. She was upfront about everything, including her predictable desire for monogamy, and transparency turned him on. “I’ll stick with you for now. Hungry yet?”

“I could eat. You gonna buy me dinner after I’ve already put out?” She sighed lustily. “Now I know I’m not in Texas anymore.”

He pulled her up and kissed her sexy swollen lips. “Get dressed. But not in that.” He flipped a hand at his favorite dress in the whole world. “Something that covers you or you’ll starve before I let you out of this bedroom.”

“Um, don’t they have room service?” She arched a brow suggestively. “I remember this guy with a cart.”

“Beauty and brains. Have I told you lately how much I like you?”

She grinned and straddled him. “Give me five minutes. Then you can tell me again,” she said, and rubbed her slick, naked sex all over his, eliciting a groan from deep in his chest as his groin sprang to life.

“I’ll be drowning in you in five minutes.”

She took him in her blistering hands, fumbled endearingly with a condom and guided him to her entrance. Just before she impaled herself, she whispered, “I know mouth-to-mouth,” and kissed him, tongue hot against his. She slid up and down with slow, tight strokes. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head and garbled words caught in his throat.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?” she asked and paused, concern plastered across her expression. “Or scaring you?”

“No way. Don’t stop. Please,” he slurred and then saw the furtive smile she couldn’t hide. “Oh, you’re hilarious. I’m over it, okay? You win by a landslide. Hope that compensates for not getting your fairy tale.”

“Kris.” She leaned back to peer at him, driving him deeper and nearly killing him. “You’re here. That’s the fairy tale. Not the setting or the words or the rose petals. All it takes for this to be magic is you.”

And then she pushed down even harder, nipped his chest with her fingernails and turned herself into a complete liar because the magic was in her touch. A spell was the only explanation for why he was still engaged, still desperate for her.

It did take a lot of energy to hold back. He’d just never been able to let go before. Never wanted to.

An eternity later, she finally admitted to being too sore to do anything other than eat. They ordered something to be delivered to the room, and whatever it was, he ate it while watching VJ as she entertained him with stories about small town life. She had a glow so strong and beautiful, the camera would pick it up easily, and he had a possessive sense of pride for being responsible.

He also had a responsibility to end this thing quickly. Passion this strong would fade faster than normal, and he was terrified of what would happen when it did. He had no intention of sticking around to find out.

After both plates were clear, she yawned. “Thank you for the wonderful birthday. It was the best present ever. I’m afraid I’m about to crash. Is this the part where we say good-night?”

“Absolutely not.” The force of his denial surprised him since he’d been about to send her off to her room. Where had that come from? Sleeping alone was habitual. Necessary. Lonely. “Forget about the other bedroom. Get your things. Move them. That door is off-limits.” He thrust a finger at the offending door. “I want to watch you fall asleep in my arms.”

Yeah. He did. Just until he went back to L.A. This whatever-it-was with VJ had blossomed into more than he’d been prepared for but with the promise of escape at the end of the week, he could handle it for a few days. It wasn’t like moving in together, which he’d never tried with anyone.

“Okay. If you insist.” She smiled, and it was treacherous. “I did want to try one other position. In the morning. You know, spoon style. Unless you want to try it now?”

On cue, the shoulder of the bathrobe fell to her elbow.

Ten

A
t dawn, Kris drew the drapes from the bedroom window and settled back in bed to watch the colors of the sunrise bleed into the indigo above the Dallas skyline. VJ woke long enough to snuggle up and then fell back asleep with her tousled head in the hollow of his shoulder. It was disconcerting how easily she fit and how easily he suspected he could get used to it.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d watched the night disappear into day. Small, restive pleasures were a luxury he’d forgotten in the rush of everyday life. Normally, he was out of bed and doing stuff by now. Restlessness VJ called it, and somehow, she’d tamed it. With a warm and willing woman in his bed, it hadn’t seemed so important to bolt into the chaos yet.

Plus, he was stalling.

At 8:03 a.m., Kris eased out from under VJ’s head and placed it carefully on the pillow. She sighed and flipped over onto her back, pulling the sheet down to her stomach and exposing that gorgeous butterfly. Small bruises dotted her neck and discolored the fragile tissue of her breasts. Guilt ate at him. Then he remembered. She could take it. Wanted it. Begged for it. He nearly crawled back in to indulge in sleepy, morning sex. Spoon style.

But he didn’t.

Out in the living area, he found his phone on the coffee table and flipped to the
M’s
, then hit Call. It rang eight times. On the ninth ring, Kyla finally answered.

“Hey,” she said and barely sounded hung over at all. World-class acting even without the camera in front of her.

“Hey.” He paused, weighing how to approach the subject of VJ. With Kyla, nothing was simple. “Sorry. It’s important or I would have waited.”

“I’m still in bed, babe. Nothing’s that important. Unless you’re coming over to join me?” The hopefulness in her voice crawled on his last nerve and raked it raw.

“I met someone.”

And that’s what happened when he let Kyla rile him. He blurted out stuff he shouldn’t. A loud clatter greeted the announcement, which was better than the cursing he’d expected.

“Okay,” she said. “I’m sitting up. So that’s why it took you so long to call. Can you give me a minute to find some coffee before you throw something like that on me?”

A few simple words and suddenly, the situation teetered on the edge of becoming a huge problem. Kyla did not like that he’d met “someone.” “Listen, Kyla. I’m not going to do the fake engagement. I can’t. I never liked the idea.”

She was quiet for a minute and then exhaled in a long stream, likely smoking the first cigarette of her two packs a day. “Have you told Jack Abrams yet?”

Of course that was her first question. Digging, to find out how far he’d taken it. “Don’t worry. You still have a job.”

“I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you, darling. Have you thought this through?”

“Yes, I have.” He gritted his teeth before he called her a liar. She never worried about anyone other than herself.

“Then what’s the plan? The contracts are signed. Did you bring in someone else to deal with the publicity and advertising?”

His back teeth scraped together. No. But he should have thought of it. Should have secured an additional investor before bringing this up with someone as savvy as Kyla.

He hadn’t because VJ deserved to have these ties severed before he slept with her again. Really, it should have happened before last night, but then he’d been sure last night would end in separate bedrooms. When it hadn’t, he’d been a little too busy to pick up the phone.

“I’m still working on the alternative plan. Do you want your car? I’ll drop it off to you today.”

“Guy’s having a thing tonight at Club 47. Bring the car by.” He did not like the crafty note creeping into her tone. “And your new friend. I’d like to meet her.”

Yeah. That was going to happen. He sank down on the couch, unsure if he’d get through this without breaking something. VJ had uncorked the fire and reclosing the lid on his soul sucked. But he had to find a balance. “We’re busy. I’ll bring the car to your mother’s around three.”

“Now you’ve got me curious. Who is she?”

“No one you’d know.”

“She must be dog ugly.”

“For Christ—” He was up and pacing before he realized it. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you can’t still be upset about Guy. We’re just friends now.”

As he’d suspected. She and Guy had split up, and she’d had her sights set on Kris again.

“I’m not upset about Guy.”

“Come to the club. It’ll be fun. Show your new friend a good time.”

He could think of a hundred things he and VJ could do for fun besides spending the evening in a pit of vipers. “She’s not my friend.”

“Oh, my God. It’s that serious? Is
she
the reason you don’t want to do the engagement? You made it sound like—”

“Kyla. Stop.” Now he had to go to the party. If nothing else, to prove to Kyla he wasn’t serious about VJ. “We’ll be there to drop off the car and kill your curiosity. We won’t stay.”

His and VJ’s relationship had a short life—very short—and that wasn’t going to change regardless of what Kyla said to bait him. The engagement was incidental to his feelings about VJ. He liked her, and they had fun. It wasn’t as if he’d subconsciously sought to remove the Kyla obstacle in case this thing with VJ progressed.

This thing with VJ
couldn’t
progress.

He needed to back off again. The more he practiced reattaching that lid, the easier it would be to do it permanently.

He ended the call and got lost in work instead of VJ, but wondered the whole time why it bothered him. Why the ache in his chest wouldn’t ease no matter what he did.

* * *

When VJ woke—alone—she cocked an ear for the sound of the shower, but the bathroom door stood ajar and the interior was dark. She sat up and was immediately sorry. Everything hurt. But deliciously, rightly so. Last night had bordered on mythical.

She flopped back on the pillow and grinned at the ceiling. This bed still belonged to Kris even if he wasn’t in it. She’d slept sinfully late and he was a busy man, who had spent the entire day with her yesterday. He probably needed to catch up on work and if she left him alone, maybe she’d get some of his time later.

She limped into the bathroom, beamed at the marks Kris had trailed down her throat and threw on a robe. She wandered out of the bedroom. Kris sat at the table chained to his laptop. Morning light spilled through the bay window, cloaking him in an ethereal spotlight. He glanced up, hair falling in his face and that slow smile knocked her knees loose. How had he picked her out of all the other mortals available?

“Come here,” he said.

As she crossed to him, he slapped the computer closed, shoved the chair back a foot and pulled her into his lap. Then kissed her. Thoroughly.

If he did that every morning for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be enough. “Um, wow. Good morning to you, too,” she said when his lips lifted.

Instead of responding, he slid his hands up her arms and hooked the robe’s lapels, drawing them off her shoulders to bare her breasts. He traced a lazy pattern down her neck and circled both nipples until she was nearly panting with need.

He sighed, kissed the butterfly and covered her up again. “I have to do some things today. But I’m taking you out tonight. Will you be okay on your own until about five?”

“Sure.” She swallowed and pressed her legs together until the heat subsided through sheer will alone. “I assumed you’d be working anyway. What are we doing tonight?”

“I’ll tell you later. Happy birthday.”

Her heart skipped. Mama had been the only one who’d ever remembered at home. “Thanks.”

“Okay, now go away so I can concentrate.” He grinned and pushed her lightly. She left him to his work, with only one backward glance at his pursed lips. The things that mouth could do. Shudder and a half.

She went to the pool and started rereading
Embrace the Rogue
for the four hundredth time. Even her favorite book couldn’t hold her interest, so she put it down and closed her eyes, drifting in the hot sun amidst the shrieks of kids splashing in the shallow end. She ate lunch by herself and missed Kris so badly she ached. At four o’clock, hot and sweaty, she went back to the room.

Empty. Kris’s laptop was on the table, closed, but he was gone and his phone wasn’t on the coffee table.

Well, he didn’t answer to her. He’d be back eventually.

Kris had been clear about not using her bedroom so she flipped on the water in his shower and tossed her swimsuit into the corner. As she swung open the shower door to step into the tepid spray, Kris strolled into the bathroom, his grin extremely decadent.

“Exactly where I hoped I’d find you,” he said and started undressing as if it was perfectly natural to be in the bathroom with her—naked—at the same time. Her cheeks heated, inexplicably. She couldn’t possibly still be shy after last night. Could she?

Her tongue was suddenly too big for her mouth, and she couldn’t speak as his shirt came off, then his pants. His boxer briefs clung to his thighs—and why was he taking so long to get them off?

Then he was naked, and he was beautiful. Every smooth, golden limb and whorl of hair on his chest was exquisite. Gorgeous.

He enfolded her in his arms and held her for a moment, hands curved around her back, warm against her skin. Held her, as if cradling something precious and treasured. Embracing her intimately, instead of diving right into hot sex. His touch carried sweet nuances of all his unexpressed feelings.
Yes, yes, yes.
Last night had fundamentally changed their relationship.

Her stomach, then her heart flipped. Holy macaroni, she was so far gone over him.

“Where were we?” he murmured and nuzzled her neck.

“Um, Dallas?”

He laughed and pulled the handle on the glass shower door. “Get wet. I want to make you scream as I’m soaping you up.”

Hot waves skewered her, and she almost came right then. How did he do that with just his voice?

He swept her into the shower and spun her, pushing her up against the tiles, then pressed her flat with his hard body while whispering in her ear. The freezing tiles against her breasts and stomach combined with the heat of him on her back sent a barb through her womb. She’d unleashed a monster, and the power of it nearly finished the orgasm his voice had started.

His lathered hands slid along her sides, scandalously dipping into the crevice of her bottom, but it was luscious and she arched, seeking him, wanting him. His fingers twisted into her center with lovely friction, and she moaned.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “Tell me how much you like it.”

He was checking in. Even after everything she’d done last night, he wanted to be sure she was still okay with no-holds-barred. Subtly asking her for reassurance before he did something irreversible. How could she do anything but fall for him?

“You make me so hot. Feels so good,” she said hoarsely, and moaned his name as he teased her with sensuous circles. Sparks gathered and the tightness grew. “I need you now.”

He drew her leg up, and positioned her foot on the low shelf, guided her forward and plowed into her. Yes, so good.

“More,” she cried. “Faster.”

And he did both. She writhed as he touched her everywhere. Then he did something indescribable against her sex as he slid deep, scraping his hard teeth against the hollow of her collarbone. She came in a whirlpool of thick sensation with a half scream.

“Yes. Beautiful,” he said fiercely, and held her firm against his chest as she climaxed again and again, lost in a delirium of pleasure. Her vision blurred.

When she could see again, she was still locked in his embrace, water sluicing over her, and he was stroking wet hair out of her face.

“You’re so gorgeous when you come,” he said, his lips grazing her ear. “So uninhibited. I want you again just thinking about it.”

She turned in his arms and took his mouth in a hard, desperate kiss, then shoved him backward until he collapsed on the shelf. She mounted him. “You can see me better from this angle.”

His expression turned feral. “You’re insatiable. I can’t tell you how much I like that.”

Circling his hips against hers, rubbing their bodies together carnally, he sparked a mad fire, enflaming her deep at the core. She needed him, craved him. Never had she felt this kind of drive to be with someone. Only Kris.

The monster
had
been unleashed but it was inside her. All her feelings for this man had exploded from their bonds, seeking to claim even as she was claimed. She barely understood the ways he made her whole, made her more than what she’d been. Barely understood the drive to reach completion again and again.

She’d been waiting for this, for him, her entire life.

As he drove her higher, faster, fiercer and longer than the first time, as she was about to drop off that ledge and free fall into climax, she found his gaze and stared into his open eyes as she shattered.

He shuddered with his own release but didn’t break their locked gazes, and the emotion in his melty eyes—affection, pleasure, affinity—squeezed her heart. Squeezed so hard, tears formed. One slid down her face, and in the aftermath, still joined and totally overcome, she mouthed
I love you.

Shock darted through his expression. She cursed. She hadn’t meant for him to hear her.

She stood and backed away, taking measured breaths to calm her racing pulse. “Sorry, heat of the moment. Don’t worry, it’s not contagious.”

His eyes turned flat and unreadable. Inaccessible Kristian Demetrious had returned.

“Come back and let me finish washing you,” he said.

Eyes narrowed, she did, but when he touched her, it was impersonal. Great. How in the world would she counteract this disaster?

The atmosphere was strained for the remainder of their shower and as they got dressed. He talked to her. She talked back, but couldn’t find the groove where they were intimate with each other. They shared the bathroom sink and mirror, accidentally touched, did a hundred other things that a real couple might but it wasn’t right. Panic erupted like a swarm of angry monarchs flying down her windpipe and she couldn’t get her eyeliner straight.