Animal Instincts (24 page)

“What about twenty questions?”

I could see the wheels turning in his head as he calculated just how sexual that game could be. Obviously (and foolishly) he decided I couldn’t do much damage, because he nodded and said, “All right. Twenty questions.”

Grinning internally, I led him to the only sofa in
the cabin. A black leather lounge made for pleasure. He claimed one side, I claimed the other.

“Why don’t I go first?” I suggested.

He eased back and nodded.

I crawled my hands toward him and leaned over until I was merely a breath away. “If I take off all your clothes, will you let me lick you all over?” I whispered next to his ear.

He almost jumped off the couch. “No!”

Oh, this game was going to be fun. I smothered my smile. “It’s your turn. Ask me a question. Anything you want.”

A long while passed before he spoke, and he spent every second of that time studying me, looking for…something. “How long were you and your ex-husband together?”

“Which one?”

“You were married more than once?” he shouted.

I laughed. “No, I just wanted you to ask and waste another question. I was married only once, and that was for six hellish years.”

“Why did you—”

“No, no, no.” My words came out in a singsong taunt. “Your turn is over. I refuse to answer another question until you answer another one of mine.” Nuzzling my cheek against his shoulder, I said, “What’s your naughtiest fantasy?”

“Making love to my
wife.
”

That wiped away my grin as he intended, I’m sure. The jerk.

“Have you dated anyone since you’ve been single?” he asked.

“Only you. It’s hot in here, don’t you think?” I asked next, removing my shirt and revealing my lacy pink bra.

“Is that your question?”

“Maybe.” I tossed the material aside.

Shifting in his seat, Royce’s eyes roved over my clothes. Or lack thereof. “No, it’s not hot, it’s cold. And is that strip of cloth supposed to be a bra or a Band-Aid? The fabric is so sheer I can see your nipples,” he accused.

“I know.”

“Enough games,” he all but shouted. “I need some thing to drink.”

He didn’t wait for my reply. He just got up, strode to the bar and downed two shots of Scotch in quick succession. I loved the way his hands shook, as if he teetered on the edge of losing control. Made me feel powerful and seductive and all woman. Something I’d only ever felt with him.

When he returned to the couch, easing beside me, I said, “You finally up for that swim?” His gaze raked over me again and he groaned.

He tunneled a stiff hand through his hair. “Give me five minutes to change,” he said. Shaking his head, he stormed into the bedroom. The door slammed behind him with a resounding thud.

I laughed, muttering, “Into what?”

Not feeling an ounce of shyness, I stripped down to the skin and entered the steamy, relaxing water. Another chuckle escaped when I imagined Royce in
the other room, searching frantically for some type of swim trunks.

My grin disappeared the moment he opened the door, however. He had a white cotton towel draped around his waist. It was more provocative than if he’d emerged naked. Strength emanated from him. Strength and pure sex appeal.

His gaze met mine, making sure I was watching. And then he dropped his towel.

My breath snagged in my throat. Oh, my, but this man wanted me. He was rock hard, huge and as beautiful as a sculpture. “You look tense. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll massage your back?” I motioned to the water directly in front of me.

“No thanks.” Slowly, so I got a view of every movement, he entered the water, the clear liquid caressing his skin the same way I wanted to. I guess he’d decided to play the game as unethically as I was. “I’m fine where I am.” With that, he relaxed against the rim of the tub, his eyes closed, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.

I frowned. “Then I’ll just sit here all alone, thinking of things we
could
be doing. If you hear me moan, don’t think anything of it. I’m probably in the throes of unbridled—”

He cursed and his eyelids popped open. “Damn it, Naomi. You win. I lose. Come here.”

Well, well, well. My eyes widened, a thrill of anticipation and victory thrumming through me. I hadn’t expected him to cave so early.

Obviously I didn’t move fast enough for him
because he clasped me by the shoulders and jerked me into his body, turning me so that my back rested against his chest. His fingers glided over the sides of my breasts, plumping, then moved over my nipples, rolling. I bit my bottom lip.

He licked a drop of water from my shoulder, and I shivered with heat that had nothing to do with the water. “You were right,” he said softly. “I can’t fight you, knowing you’re naked. Knowing you want me.”

My head lolled back, onto his shoulder. I tingled. I ached. I desired.

I remembered.

He spun me around, water sloshing over the rim of the tub. “I need to hear you say this isn’t just sex. I need to hear you say this is making love.”

“I—no.” I shook my head. “I can’t say that.” The more I admitted, the more eager he would be to convince me to marry him. I knew it,
felt
it.

A harsh scowl tightened his lips. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?”

“So are you.”

“If we’re together tonight, I won’t promise not to ask you to marry me,” he warned.

I shook my head again, and this time my hair rippled over his shoulders and stomach. “My answer won’t change.”

“So you say.”

“So I know.”

“You changed your mind about being my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, well…” I didn’t know what to say to that. He was right.

He kissed my jaw. Our chests rubbed together, slick from the steam and water. One of his hands trailed down my stomach. His eyes gleamed with satisfaction and desire, and I’m positive they were a mirror of mine.

Using our positions to his advantage, he hoisted me onto his lap, my legs straddling his waist.

“No more talking,” he said. “I’ve got a better use for our tongues.”

“Prove it.”

His mouth meshed with mine; his tongue swept inside and mine was there to greet him. I tasted the Scotch, but mostly I tasted Royce, a heady male flavor that was all his own. This is what I’d wanted. This is what I’d needed. To be with him. To lose myself and my fears in the pleasure only he could give me.

Water churned around us, lapping at my skin, acting as another stimulant. I tightened my legs around his waist and pressed intimately against him. His erection brushed the core of me, and we both jerked in blissful response.

My hands roamed over him, every inch. Sliding down his chest. Circling his nipples. Wrapping around his thick, hard penis.

“You’re killing me,” he growled. He nibbled my collarbone, sucking away every drop of liquid.

“What a way to die, hmm?”

His strained chuckle wafted over me, cool against my heated, wet skin. “You’re like my kryptonite. I weaken just being around you.”

“I’m glad.” I nipped at his neck, all the while
rubbing myself against him. A moan slipped from my mouth. God, he felt so good.

“If it weren’t for your four-hundred-dollars-an-hour lips, I might,
might
have been able to hold out another minute or two.”

“Only four hundred?” The water and steam made his skin slick and sultry, and I slid down him until my mouth reached his nipples. I licked, circling the sensitive area with my tongue.

“Hundred thousand, sweetheart.” His hands cupped my cheeks, forcing me to look at him. He gazed deeply into my eyes. “Your lips are four hundred thousand dollars an hour.”

I grinned slowly. With my legs still anchored solidly around him, he pushed to his feet. My back straightened and I kissed him, and I didn’t stop kissing him as he stepped out of the tub, groping blindly for the bedroom door. We made it inside and toppled onto the cool, dry sheets. We rolled and strained and writhed against each other, our excitement mounting, the tension building.

He pushed me to my back and crawled low, between my legs. His tongue licked inside me. I almost screamed. He brought his fingers into play, moving them inside me as his tongue worked at my clitoris. My limbs shook with the force of my pleasure, and I was just about to—

He sat up, his every muscle pulled tight. “Condom?”

“Yes,” I quickly replied, though a part of me screamed no. I was going to have to have a long, stern talk with that ridiculous part of me.

“One sec,” he said, his voice so husky and raw I barely heard him. He pulled away and raced to his bag.

“Why’d you bring condoms if you planned to wait until marriage?”

He smiled sheepishly, but never moved his focus from the bag. “I know my limitations.”

I lay atop the bed, panting, needy, achy. “Hurry.”

He was on top of me in the next instant, slipping, sliding inside me to the hilt. I welcomed him eagerly, crying out his name, arching my back, clawing at his arms. Oh, the exquisite pleasure of being with him.

He paused, staring down at me, the lines around his mouth and eyes taut. “Can you handle a rough ride?”

“I’m a Tigress, remember?”

He pulled back and slammed forward. I moaned in rapture. Over and over, he repeated the action, taking me higher, close to the edge.

“Naomi, Naomi, Naomi.” He chanted my name as he moved. A prayer, or maybe a curse.

“Royce,” I chanted back. Definitely a curse.

His tempo increased, and so did my pleasure. I was almost there, so close I would die if I didn’t get there soon. Suddenly he reared back, then pounded forward and hit me exactly where I needed him most. My climax ripped through me. Stars winked behind my eyes; blood pounded through my veins. I think my soul even left my body for a moment.

As I spasmed around him, he roared loud and long. His body stiffened and he gripped my hips. He shouted my name again, and this time I
knew
it was a prayer.

A
LITTLE OVER A WEEK
passed, and I used the time to get used to being a girlfriend. Royce came to my apartment every evening. First, we’d work on party preparations. Then, we’d make—uh, have sex.

He didn’t ask me to marry him, but each night I went to bed in his arms (happily content, thank you very much) and mulled the idea over in my mind. I still broke out in a cold sweat, and I still wanted to vomit. Just not as badly as before.

I wasn’t the marrying kind of gal. Royce had never done anything to deserve my distrust, but still, doubts
were stubborn things. Royce was a man. A beautiful, virile man desired by legions. Women of every age went crazy for him. And I had to wonder how long his fascination with me would last. One month? Two? Or until after vows were spoken?

Was happily-ever-after truly possible? I just didn’t know. Before, I would have said hell no. Now… Mel and Colin were dating, much to Kera’s glee. Mel had been unable to resist him that night at the club, and now they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Would
they
last, though?

After breakfast with the twins, I’d climbed in this cab and was now headed toward Powell Aeronautics. Royce had offered me the use of one of his cars, but I hadn’t accepted. I was holding part of myself back, determined to depend on him as little as possible. I’d buy a car soon, and then there’d be no need to borrow his.

When the cab stopped, I stepped onto the sidewalk and removed my sunglasses. The sun beat down, blinding me for a moment. I blinked rapidly, adjusting to the light, and pushed into motion. Like a steady heartbeat, my high heels thumped with every step I took. The security guard, Johnny, knew me by sight now and let me pass without a qualm.

Upstairs, Elvira, Mistress of the Damned, was boxing her belongings, and a tall, lanky, very feminine man was
unboxing
his. Today, Elvira wore a clean-lined black suit. Her hair was slicked back in its usual twist, but though she wore a bit more makeup than usual, she looked paler than ever.

Her lips pinched together when she spotted me. I wouldn’t have been surprised if her nails elongated like a cat’s. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“I’ve been relocated,” she said stiffly. “As I’m sure you planned.”

“I’m taking her place,” the man said, excitement bubbling from him as he fingered the necklace hanging around his neck. He had painted his nails pink. Smiling, he held out his hand and we shook. “I’m Weston Cross. Oh, it’s so wonderful to meet you.” He tapped a finger to his glossed lips. “You’re Naomi, right?”

“Yes.”

“I recognize the lips.”

My features crinkled with my confusion. Royce had transferred Elvira and brought in an obviously gay man? For me? I couldn’t help it. I grinned. What a darling, wonderful man.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” Elvira snapped. “So what if you won this round. Royce will hire me back when Idiot Cross messes everything up.”

“Look, Elvira,” I said, and she gasped. “Royce is never going to be yours. Deal with it.”

She hissed.

Weston clucked under his tongue. “Should I ring security and have you escorted out,
Elvira?
”

Scowling, she grabbed her box and stormed out of the office.

“You’re my hero,” Weston said, grinning over at me. “Mr. Powell told me to let you go in without notice if you ever came up. So go on. Go in.”

Practically floating, I entered Royce’s office.

Royce glanced up from his desk when he saw me. He smiled in welcome, radiating warmth. “Naomi. What a pleasant surprise.”

“As if you didn’t know I’d stop by,” I said dryly. “You’re the one who programmed the BlueJay, gifting me with such a harmonious reminder that we were meeting today.”

“Well, I’m glad you finally decided to heed it.” His eyes twinkled with mischief. “Would you care for something to drink?”

“No, thank you.” I settled in my chair, took out my notebook and pencil, and set my briefcase aside. “You’ve put this off long enough, and we’re running out of time. Only a few weeks left till the party. You must choose a location. I need to get the invitations printed ASAP.”

“I’ve decided.”

At that, I glanced up. “You have? Remember you promised I wouldn’t have to fly,” I told him.

His smile widened. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“Then where will it be?”

“The Palace Hotel.”

“Thank God,” I muttered under my breath. I’d planned parties there before, so I knew the exotic hotel intimately. “I’ll have to make sure the ballroom isn’t already booked. We waited so long—”

“I’ve, uh, already booked it.”

Something in his tone caused my back to straighten. My eyes narrowed on him. “How long ago did you book it?”

His cheeks brightened a little. “That’s not important,” he said.

“Uh, yes.” I crossed my arms over my middle. “It is. When?”

“I booked it the day we decided on the
Arabian Night
s theme.”

I could have gotten mad. I
should
have gotten mad. Honestly, though, I liked that he’d gone to so much trouble to take me on those trips. Maybe that wasn’t the politically correct reaction, but I’d gotten multiple orgasms out of the deal, so who was I to complain? Still…

“You deserve some type of punishment,” I said.

“So come by my house tonight and make me pay,” he said, a seductive edge underlying the words. “I’ll finally give you your present. And while you’re there,” he added, regarding me intently, “I want you to think about moving in.”

Everything inside me froze, warmed, then froze again. So far, he hadn’t pushed me for more. A part of me had known it was coming, that it was only a matter of time. “Royce—”

“Hear me out. I’m not asking you to marry me. When you’re with me, I’m happy. When we’re apart, I’m not. I don’t mind going back and forth between our apartments, but I’d rather have you near me all the time.”

“It’s too soon.”

“It’s not too soon. Not when I love you.”

Only the sound of my shallow breath emerged. No, no, no. I didn’t want to hear those words again. Not now.

“I love you, Naomi,” he said again.

“Don’t say that.” I had trouble drawing in a breath. “I don’t want to hear those words. Love only complicates things.”

“I love you, Naomi,” he repeated, ignoring my words. “I do. I think I loved you the first moment I saw you. Since that day, I haven’t been romantically involved with another woman. Only you.” He moved from the desk and knelt in front of me. Reaching up, he caressed the softness of my cheek. “I love you. I love you so much I’m miserable without you.”

By far, it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard. And the most painful. I couldn’t give him the words back. I just couldn’t. That would mean trusting him completely, forsaking my fears, and taking a dangerous, uncertain plunge. “Royce, I don’t know what to say.” My voice quivered.

“Say you’ll give me a chance. Say you’ll think about my offer.”

Not knowing if I could tell him what he wanted to hear, I could only nod.

“Ah, such enthusiasm,” he said, shaking his head and grinning. “But it’s good enough for now. You’ll come over tonight?”

I gulped and nodded. I could give him that at least, no matter how much the prospect scared me.

At the moment, though, I wanted to rush home, to bury myself under a mound of covers and think about nothing at all. Not Royce. Not moving in with him. Not his words. But I wouldn’t. That wasn’t the way I
lived my life anymore. “About your offer… Give me a little time. Okay? I’ll think about it. I promise.”

“All right.” Leaning down, he whispered in my ear, “While you’re thinking about it, I want you to remember the way I made love to you against the wall in Colorado. I want you to remember the way I tasted between your thighs at the cabin.”

My chin snapped up. He tugged me to my feet and gave me a gentle push, easing me into the hall. Then he promptly shut the door in my face.

Every muscle inside my body tensed. I went from conflicted to sexually charged to frustrated in less than one point two seconds. He’d done that on purpose, the jerk. Now I would be able to imagine nothing else but the way he kissed me. The way he used his tongue on me. The way he loved me.

Oh, God.

I scowled all the way home.

S
ECURITY ALLOWED ME TO GO
to Royce’s apartment without question or comment, even though I’d never been there before. I guess Royce had told them to expect me, had shown them my picture, or something.

All afternoon, I’d thought of only two things: living without Royce and actually living with him. I didn’t want to do either, not permanently, but I had to choose one. Anything less was unfair to Royce. I realized that now. Unfortunately, I was no closer to a decision than I’d been earlier. My pro-and-con list balanced out equally.

How did a person conquer their deepest fears? I’d searched my Tigress manual, but all I’d come up with was that I needed to kill them and feast on their remains. That didn’t really answer my question, though.

After four hard knocks, Royce opened the door. When he spotted me, he smiled that seductive smile of his that drove me wild.

“Come in.” He motioned backward with a wave of his hand.

“Thank you.” I glided past him. I’d never been here, but I’d wondered about his place of residence. I drank in the details. The walls of the living room were painted in classic ivory. A white Tergal scarf was draped over each of the five windows. At first glance, every piece of furniture appeared to be the same monochrome shade of white. Yet at closer inspection, I saw pillows with cream-colored beaded jackets, wraps with eggshell trimming.

Behind the couch was a long, narrow table of dark wood. A chandelier boasting hundreds of tiny crystal raindrops hung over it. Chinese root tables flanked each side of the couch. It was a room that spoke of wealth, not comfort. I didn’t like it.

“Who decorated this place?” I asked, not even trying to hide my distaste. Nothing about the place fit with Royce’s open personality.

“My mother.”

“It, uh, lacks warmth.”

“So does she, for the most part. Fixing the place up made her feel wanted, so I let her do it.” He clasped my hand in his. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

I eagerly followed as he led me through a generously proportioned kitchen. High marble counters were scrubbed clean. No dishes sat in the sink. No pots or pans were out of place. In fact, the area looked as if it had never seen a meal prepared.

Next, he showed me the game room. It was nothing like the rest of the apartment. It had a dark, comfy couch, a large-screen television and more stereo equipment than I’d ever seen in one room. All of those gave it a nice, “lived in” feel. He spent most of his time in here, was my guess, and I doubted his mom had decorated it.

“And this,” he said, “is my bedroom.”

It, too, suited him, boasting deep blue and gold colors that spoke of warmth and masculinity. The decadent four-poster bed held my attention longest. Glossy wood, rumpled sheets. How I would love rolling naked on those Egyptian cotton sheets.

Sandalwood scented the air. Just the smell of it turned me on.

We strolled back to the living room hand in hand. I loved the feel of my hand in his. Where I was soft and small, he was callused and strong. A delicious contrast.

“Where’s my present?” I said. Was I too eager? Too go-get-it-now-or-I’ll-die? “You promised to give it to me if I came over.”

He grinned. “Give me a minute.” He raced away and disappeared into the hall. He soon reappeared holding a medium-sized red box. “For you.”

Too large to be a ring. Too small to be…anything else. My hands were shaky as I accepted the box and hesitantly lifted the lid. When I saw what was inside, I gasped. A glass orchid with blue petals sat in the center of pale green foam. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, delicate and almost dreamlike.

“I—I don’t know what to say. I love it.”

“I had it made for you.”

The dainty petals glistened from the overhead light, shining like pearls. As I looked at it, my defenses crumbled faster than I could patch them. I gulped past the lump in my throat and forced myself to look up at him. “I’ll, uh, have the party invitations printed and mailed ASAP,” I said, bringing us back to the business at hand. I think I was pretty close to bursting into tears.

He drew me into his arms, but I kept the box between us as a shield.

His gaze was heavy-lidded and focused on my mouth. “You’re pale all of a sudden. Why?”

My heart was inexplicably in my throat. “I—I have to tell you something.”

Something hard and cold flicked in his eyes, followed quickly by determination. He pried the box from my fingers and set it on top of the coffee table. In the next instant, he had me pinned to the wall, his mouth on mine, his tongue taking possession. That’s all it took. One touch, one caress and I wanted him with an urgency that never seemed to leave me. My bones began the slow process of liquefaction. Unable to stand on my own, I let him hold me up. Kiss me. Devour me.

A shiver rippled over me as his thighs trapped me further. I breathed in his scent, warm and male and all Royce.

His tongue battled mine. Hard. Quick. I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of him.

“Royce,” I said.

“No talking.” He slowed the kiss down, making it soft and gentle. I pressed deeper into him. His arms braced around me, familiar anchors. He tasted hot, like sunshine and rain mingled together. His fingers cupped my jaw.

“Royce, I—”

“Love you.” His lips lowered to mine, still a gentle conqueror, savoring the taste of me, taking time to explore every hollow of my mouth.

I shoved away from him.

“What’s wrong?” he said, his expression filled with concern.