A Kept Man (15 page)

She opened her eyes. He loomed over her, a tender expression on his
face. It was gentle, and loving. It occurred to her that of all the
looks she’d seen on his beautiful face, she liked this one the
most.

He reached up and brushed back a strand of hair from her forehead. It
clung to her skin, and she realized that she was covered in sweat.
Moist inside and out.

“You don’t think we’re done, do you?” he
whispered. Her face was so overheated his breath actually felt cool
on her cheeks.

“We’re not?” she tried to ask. It took her few
seconds to realize that she hadn’t spoken the words out loud.
They merely echoed in her head.

“No,” he said, answering as confidently as if she’d
voiced the query aloud.

She didn’t think she could take any more. She opened her mouth
to tell him that. Then the tip of his cock teased the oversensitive
flesh between her thighs. Her senses sprang to life. That low throb
began anew in her belly, and she knew he was right. There was more.

She wanted all of him. She wanted him inside her.

He poised himself over her. She hadn’t seen him cover himself.
She didn’t need to. In the back of her mind, she recognized
that if she trusted him enough this far, she had to trust him to
protect them both. So she welcomed him, fully and openly, into her
body.

She knew immediately that her trust hadn’t been misplaced. He
pressed the head of his cock to her pussy. She was still so wet that
there was no resistance to his penetration. He slid into her in one
long, smooth stroke, as naturally and as easily as though their two
bodies had been made to fit together as no two others ever had. He
didn’t stop until their hips were fused together and she had
taken all of him. He was so big inside her. Her body felt completely
full, every inch of her filled with him.

Suddenly there was no air in her lungs again. This time the sound
that emerged from her mouth was a sigh.

Then he was moving, pushing his hips back, then lowering himself into
her again. His thrusts were smooth and sure, gradually increasing in
speed. It didn’t take her body long to respond, to catch the
rhythm of the motion. Then she was moving her hips up to join him,
catching every thrust of his cock as he drilled into her. The rhythm
inside of her built at the same rate as the one between their bodies,
slowly working to a fever pitch. When she came this time it was no
less fierce than the first. Indeed, it built on the first, screaming
through raw nerves that still hadn’t recovered. And this time,
he was right there with her, a guttural moan ripping itself from his
mouth, as he came over and over again inside her.

She didn’t feel his withdrawal. She didn’t feel him push
himself off of her and collapse beside her. It took a long time for
her to regain her composure, for her breathing to steady, for her to
again begin to feel her fingers and toes. Even when she was somewhat
recovered, she could feel the sensations tingling through her body.
She coasted on the remnants of the orgasm, basking in the glow,
wanting to prolong the experience as long as possible.

He must have known what she was doing, because he didn’t say
anything, allowing her to come down on her own, at her own pace.
Damn, he was good. One thing was for sure. Charlie lived up to his
billing.

At last, she managed to find her voice. She turned her head to find
him watching her.

“That was amazing,” she sighed. Then she almost cringed.
The words seemed woefully inadequate to express what she’d just
experienced.

He snorted. “That was nothing.”

Her eyes widened. “There’s more?”

“There’s always more. We’re just getting started.”

“I’m not sure I can handle any more.” She could
barely move. Her bones hadn’t just melted under his
ministrations. They’d been obliterated.

“I’ll make a wild woman out of you yet. We’ve done
long and slow. Don’t you want to try fast and hard?”

Hell, how could she say no to that? Delicious possibilities were
already filling her mind. “As long as I get to be on top.”

He grinned. “Whatever you want.”

“Then why are we still talking?”

“I have no idea.”

He reached over and swung her on top of him. And they began again.

Chapter
Ten

They finally emerged from the bedroom late in the evening, stumbling
to the bathroom and finding themselves in the shower. They stayed
there until the water ran cold, which happened far too soon as far as
Caleb was concerned.

After that they wound up in the kitchen, hunting for anything that
looked appetizing in the refrigerator. The search went slower than it
should have, since neither of them could keep their hands off of the
other. He almost shoved her up against the counter and took her right
then and there. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t. He doubted
Jess would have objected.

Instead, they pulled two stools up to the island and quickly dug into
the array of food they’d unearthed from the fridge.

“God, I’m starving,” Jess muttered around a
mouthful of pâté.

“I’m not surprised. We haven’t eaten anything since
this morning.”

She smirked. “Not food, at any rate.”

“You’re going to give me an identity crisis. I thought I
was supposed to be the dirty-minded sex fiend.”

“You’ve corrupted me.”

“Regret it?”

“Not in the least.”

She gave him this big, beautiful smile, and for a second, he thought
his heart actually stopped.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts and reached for a slice of
cheese.

She was amazing. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. He
barely managed to keep his hands off of her.

He’d known that she wasn’t as straight-laced and upright
as she tried to pretend, but he still hadn’t anticipated the
wild creature he’d unleashed when he’d finally broached
her defenses. She was voracious. Insatiable. Absolutely fearless,
willing to try anything. And she’d done so with complete
enthusiasm and abandon, like no woman he’d ever known. The men
she’d been with in the past must have been fools if they hadn’t
managed to unleash this side of her. Poor them.

The sun had set while they were in the shower, and the room was
bathed in darkness. They’d only turned on a few of the small
overhead lamps surrounding the island. Jess sat beneath one of them,
in her own spotlight. Neither of them had dressed after leaving the
bathroom, not seeing the point. They were comfortable with each
other’s bodies by now. That may have been a mistake. He hadn’t
thought about how difficult it would be to sit across from her and
just eat, when her breasts were right there in front of him.

She got a smear of cream cheese on the side of her mouth and slowly,
deliberately, licked it away. Her tongue worked the same spot seven
or eight times, as though she wasn’t quite sure she’d
gotten it all. When the very last drop was gone, she looked up at him
and smiled, leaving no doubt that the little show was for his
benefit.

“Down, boy.”

Easy for her to say. He’d been hard since the moment she’d
appeared at the pool that morning. He didn’t think he’d
been soft for more than a few seconds since.

He could only grin back. That was when he knew he was in trouble.

She fascinated him. She was complicated in so many ways that he still
wasn’t sure he’d gotten a handle on her. She was so
unconscious of her own sensuality, yet the sexiest woman he’d
ever known. She was smart and tough, but strangely vulnerable. She
kept surprising him. That excited him in a way he’d never been
before. He had the feeling he could study her for years and still not
know everything there was to know about her. But boy, would it be fun
trying.

“So where are you from?”

If she was looking for a way to kill his erection, she’d found
it. He smothered a sigh. He didn’t want to crawl back into the
shelter of his assumed persona, didn’t want to remember the
real reason he was sitting here, naked in this kitchen with her. He
just wanted to watch her, all night long.

“Well?” she demanded, clearly unwilling to let the matter
drop.

He loaded some cold cuts on a slice of wheat bread, giving the
sandwich far more attention than it deserved. “This again? I
thought we’d moved past that.”

“No. You’ve just made me more curious.”

“About what? Where men are bred to be this good in bed?”

She raised an eyebrow at him in warning. “Still not loving the
egotism.”

“So you didn’t think it was good?”

“You know better than that.”

“I’ll say. I still have the sound of your screams ringing
in my ears.”

She offered him a tight smile, but there was humor in it. “Cute.”

“You know, it takes two. A man’s only as good as the
woman he’s with.”

“Okay, that line I like. As long as I’m that woman, you
can use it.”

“I’ll be sure to use it early and often.”

“Good. So where are you from?”

This time he did sigh. “Is there any chance you’re going
to let this drop?”

“Nope.”

This was where things got tricky. The process of getting himself in
Charlie’s place before her arrival had been so rushed that he
hadn’t had time to concoct the kind of fully developed back
story he normally would. He was going to have to wing it.

He could have said any place in the world and gone from there.
Instead, he felt the strangest impulse to tell her truth. Before he
had a chance to second guess the impulse, he heard himself say, “I
grew up here in L.A.”

She rolled her eyes. “I should have known.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No offense, but I can’t imagine you springing forth from
anywhere else.”

“Do you notice how people always so ‘no offense’
right before they insult you? I’m just not sure if you’re
insulting me or my hometown.”

“Neither,” she said quickly. “You just have the
whole blond and buff California thing working for you.”

“Uh huh,” he drawled. He knew backpedaling when he heard
it. He also knew he shouldn’t take her attitude personally.
That had been the goal to start with, to make her think he was just
another dim Hollywood wannabe. So why did it prick his ego? “Just
like you have the whole serious and driven New York thing working for
you?”

“Exactly. Although I’m from Chicago originally.”

“Great town. What made you decide to leave?”

“Well, being a globe-trotting journalist generally involves
trotting the globe, not staying in one place. And we’re talking
about you, not me, remember?”

“I never agreed to that.”

“Too bad. What did your parents do?”

Lord, she was maddening. He didn’t know whether he liked the
quality in her or not.

He was so preoccupied considering the issue that he answered
honestly.

“My father was an actor.”

“I guess it runs in the family. Anyone I would know?”

They were treading in dangerous waters. If he told her his father’s
name, she could look him up online. If she did she would no doubt
discover that his son’s name was not Charlie Wells. He could
try to pass it off as a stage name, but that would throw
complications into he mix he didn’t need. “Not really,”
he shrugged, hoping she wouldn’t press the point. “It was
a long time ago. He’s dead now.”

Her face creased with sympathy. “I remember you said that. I’m
sorry.” If he didn’t know better, he’d think she
really was and not merely saying the line by rote.

“It was a long time ago. I’ve had time to get used to it.
It was harder on my mother.”

“I’m sure it was,” she said, that same trace of
earnest sympathy in her voice, and this time he couldn’t stand
to hear the platitude.

He laughed, taking a small measure of gratification from the surprise
that flashed across her face. “You have no idea.”

“You’re right. I still have both my parents. I’ve
never really lost anyone—”

“We didn’t just lose him. We lost everything. Our home.
Our money. Everything we owned.”

“What happened?”

He knew he should stop talking, but there was something about her
that made him want to tell her. She had a quality that made people
want to open up to her, her gaze interested but not predatory, her
expression empathetic but not condescending. He could see what made
her a good reporter.

“My father was a good guy. A nice guy. Too nice. He trusted
people he shouldn’t have, which in this town is inexcusable. A
small town yokel straight off the bus knows not to trust anyone in
L.A. But he did. And they robbed him blind. His manager. His business
agent. He trusted the wrong people, and when he died, there was
nothing left. They stole everything.”

“That’s terrible.”

“That’s life.”

“How old were you when he died?”

“Seven. Old enough to know what was happening. Not that my
mother ever let me forget it. She never got over it. Kind of hard to
go from living in a nice house to a one-bedroom apartment working two
or three jobs to make ends meet.”

“Where is she now?”

“Dead. Worked herself into an early grave. She died right after
I turned eighteen. Sometimes I wonder if she didn’t hold out
that long on purpose, until I was able to take care of myself, before
she gave up.”

“Do you think she’d approve of what you do today? How you
take care of yourself?”

He hadn’t thought of his mother in so long. She’d been
gone for such a long time, almost half his life, and she remained
less vivid in his memory than she had once been. He still had no
doubt of his answer.

“I think she would understand.”

If there was one thing his mother had ingrained in him, it was a
hatred of those who took what didn’t belong to them. She’d
never let go of her bitterness that his father’s millions had
been siphoned away by those it didn’t belong to. After college,
he’d started in the insurance company’s computer
division, tracking insurance fraud behind the scenes. It was
rewarding work, satisfying a deep need inside of him. He’d
probably still be there if his supervisor hadn’t spotted him
one day and decided the pretty face his father had passed on to him
could be put to better use in the field. That had been even better,
allowing him to see the people he was taking down firsthand. Finally
that hadn’t been enough. He wanted to tackle the high rollers,
the thieves who went after high-ticket items. The ones who thought
they were the best. Except he was better. And so he’d become a
recovery agent, catching those who didn’t think they could be.