Caressa's Knees (9 page)

Denise was watching Caressa just as intently, only her lips were drawn down in a small frown.

After the concert, all the way back to the hotel, Caressa sobbed and wouldn’t allow either Kyle or her aunt to soothe her. Denise just looked out the window, her jaw tense. Caressa leaned her forehead against her cello, a pile of tissues beside her. Kyle sat and felt like the kid who showed up at school only to find he’d studied for the wrong test.

* * * * *

Caressa fled to her room and locked the door as soon as they got to the hotel suite. She didn’t want anyone to see her.
Especially
him
.
That dumb, concerned look on his face.
Jesus. Did he really not understand how badly she’d played?

It had to be his fault. All that kissing and fucking and…kissing… She should have been practicing, not kissing him. And the way he’d bossed her around, making her eat a turkey sandwich when she hated turkey, blow drying her hair so it got all frizzy and
poofy
. She always pulled it back anyway. He just didn’t get it, he didn’t get
anything
. He was upsetting her routines—

She froze at the knock on the door. It wasn’t her aunt’s knock. “Go away,” she yelled.

“Open the door,” he said in a calm voice.

“I said go away!”
God, his stupid voice.
She hated how it sounded like caramel, all smooth and
melty
around the edges. Where had he said he was raised? Louisiana? Texas? Again he
knocked,
two sharp raps in succession.

“I’m trying to sleep!”

It was a lie. She was huddled beside the bed where she’d dropped and pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to forget about the mistakes, the patronizing applause… She heard the knob rattle and knew he was picking the lock. The door swung open and she turned her back on him.

“Caressa—”

“Get out!” She screamed it, the same way she’d screamed at him that morning. “Get out, get out!” It felt good to scream at him, or rather at the wall, because she couldn’t look at him and scream the way she was screaming. “Get
ou
—” The
final ‘t’
was muffled by a large hand and his hiss against her ear.

“Stop it, you diva.”

She hit out at him, turning and attacking with everything she was worth. He parried, pushing her back and pinning her down with embarrassing quickness.

“You’re an angry little girl, aren’t you?” he asked, his hands flexing on her wrists.

“I’m not a little girl, you jerk. I’m not a diva.”

“No? You act like one.”

She fought with renewed energy. He slid his hands from her wrists to cover her palms, still pinning her with his body.

“Let go of my hands!” No one touched her hands.
Ever.
But he ignored her shrieked command, his fingers closing around hers. His chest was pressed to hers, a cage.
An anchor.
He waited for her to look at him, but she wouldn’t do it.

“Go away!”

“No.”

She finally chanced a sideways glance at him, and what she saw really devastated her. He admired her. Still. “You don’t understand, Kyle. It was terrible.”

“I liked it,” he said without pause.

“Because you don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t,” he agreed a moment later, with an ironic lilt to his voice. “How can you say it was terrible? The applause went on and on. They were shouting ‘Bravo!’”

“Yeah, they’re idiots. They do that every time. Dress up and go listen to the pretty music from the fancy orchestra in their flashy tuxedos. They’re like you, they don’t know. The reviews will tell the story tomorrow. You fucking idiot.”

His face changed then, and his fingers tightened around hers until she squirmed to pull them away. “Apologize.”

“Let go of my hands.”

“Apologize.
I’m sorry I called you a fucking idiot, Kyle.
”

She shook her head.

“Say it.
I’m sorry I called you a fucking idiot. I’m sorry for trivializing your experience and ranting at you like a shrill bitch.
Say it.”

“Fuck you!”

“Say it. I can hold you here all night. Do you need me to repeat it?”

“I want to go to bed.”

“As soon as you apologize.”

She pouted. Damn, she had an itch on her arm. He wouldn’t let go of her hands no matter how hard she pulled, and she had to scratch it. She squirmed against him and…oh my God.

He smiled down at her.
Smug asshole.
“Say it, Caressa.”

He was hard, and he was pressing against her in a way that had her body rebelling against what her mind was telling her to do.

“No. Go away,” she insisted, a little less forcefully this time.

“
I’m sorry…
”

“Jesus.
Fine.
I’m sorry I called you an idiot!”

“
And ranted at you like a shrill bitch.
”

Caressa heard a snort and a laugh and realized it had come from her. And then more laughter bubbling up before she could stop it. She wanted to be angry. She hated him. She
despised
him. No. She adored him.

“Say it.” He was laughing against her lips, kissing her. “Say it, you crazy little
wingnut
.”

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry I ranted at you like…like…a shrill…
hahaha
…bitch…” She could barely get the words out, she was laughing so hard. Tears were streaming from her eyes and then she wasn’t really sure where her laughter ended and her tears began. Kyle kissed her again and again, licking the moisture from her cheeks and nibbling at her lips. Their bodies bumped together in laughter and a deeper, more intent purpose. He was groping at her pants, pulling at the waistband.

“Don’t rip them,” she said.

“Take them off.”

She scrambled up, still not sure if she wanted to hate him or worship him. The conflict of her feelings lodged somewhere in her middle, near her heart, but between her legs there was warmth and wetness. She undressed and he undressed too with a complete lack of self-consciousness. She stared because she still couldn’t quite get over the sight of him—the sculpted perfection of his torso, his muscular legs and his hard, upstanding cock.

She made a sound and backed away as he advanced on her, condom already in his hand and quickly rolled onto his thick length. His eyes never left her. In fact, his eyes were so intent they frightened her. She started to fight him as he backed her to the wall, for no other reason than the shit storm he stirred in her. He ignored her half-hearted slaps and shoves and pressed against her, slipping his hands beneath her knees to draw her thighs up and around his hips. She braced herself and bumped her head back against the wall, holding on for dear life.

“Say you want me, Caressa.”

She gazed at him with bared teeth. “You’re always telling me what to say.”

“Then say what you feel. Say
yes
, or
no
—”

“Oh…” She moaned. “I don’t want to talk.” She couldn’t summon words. She heard music, banging clashing chords, and felt his cock parting her, easing up into her. Why did he need her to talk? Couldn’t he hear it? She gave a sing-
songy
whine and shifted her hips to take him deeper. His knees, or her elbows perhaps, thumped against the wall in the silence of the hotel suite as he began to move in her, each thrust lifting her higher. She banged her head again but she didn’t care. His teeth closed on her neck and she wanted him to bite instead of nibble. “Kyle…”

She arched her hips into his thrusts, wanting to urge him on, but not knowing how. She ground against him and his fingers tightened on her hip where he held her. His cock pinned her and possessed her, and then found a spot that had her falling faster, rising higher. Her moans intensified as she sought satisfaction.

“
Shhh
…”

She heard his shushing as if from a distance. She grasped his shoulders and dug her nails into his golden skin. “Help me. I can’t—
Closer
, please!”

With a groan, he slid an arm under her and turned, carrying her to the bed and collapsing over her. The force and rhythm of his thrusts increased as he plundered her, his hips pounding against hers. His pubic bone contacted her clit, rubbing over it in an unbearable tease. She pulled her knees up to draw him closer, to urge him on, and then he delivered a stinging slap to the outside of her thigh.
Another, and another again.
The sound was loud and she jerked, at the same time the chaos inside her transformed into a single strain of completion.

“God, Kyle!” The orgasm came on her like a gunshot, an explosion. Every nerve seized and her thighs clenched around him as he stiffened above her. He gripped her thighs where they still stung from his blows and pressed her down, down, down. She wanted him to hold her down forever, to fill her and not let her go. Her pussy clamped down on his hard thickness, a jolting release made even sweeter by the way he shook and shuddered above her.

When he fell against her she lay still, not wanting to stir and cause him to move. A moment later she heard a chuckle and a soft gasp of breath against her cheek.

“I suppose we could have been quieter.”

Caressa didn’t answer. Quiet was the last thing on her mind. God, the way he fucked her, like an animal rutting, like a wild man. He had slapped her thigh, hard. She still felt the warmth of his handprint.

And she had liked it.
Very much.

He finally drew back to lie beside her, turning questioning eyes on her. “So…you got your spanking. Did you enjoy it as much as you hoped?”

She looked past him, over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

He tweaked her chin and
tsked
at her. “Don’t be a smart ass. Tell me if you liked it or not.”

She forced her gaze back to his, stared into those blue eyes that pinned her as effectively as his cock. “I still feel it.” She didn’t know what she meant by that…if she meant the burn on her thigh or his cock still firm and stirring in her. “You’ve got quite a libido working there.”

“I do all right,” he sighed, pulling away from her. He kissed her, not gently, and rolled off the bed. He stood over her and she felt suddenly naked, vulnerable. She pulled the sheets over herself and looked past him again.

“Can I sleep in here with you?” he asked.

“No.”

He studied her a moment longer, then shrugged. “It’s late, and if I sleep in here I’ll probably just keep you up later than I should.”

“You’ve already done that.”

He stretched his gorgeous limbs, refusing to rise to the bait. She watched and pretended he didn’t make her heart beat faster and her
mouth go
dry. He started to dress and she turned on her side, remembering everything that his ruthless seduction had driven away for precious moments.
The concert, the horrible flubs.
The undeserved applause.
The piece had slipped ahead just out of her fingers. She’d thought she had it once or twice, but overall the performance was average at best—

Ohhh
…
He was leaning over her, licking up the side of her neck. She shivered and almost reached for him, reached to pull him back down beside her, with his spicy, manly smell and his voice like caramel.

“You still taste like tears,” he whispered. His tongue slipped behind her ear, teasing and tempting. Then he kissed her gently on the forehead and was gone.

Chapter Five:

Involved

Kyle stayed in bed late the next morning. He’d adjusted to West Coast time easily, as if he’d never been away, but he didn’t want to get up and face Caressa and her Aunt Denise. Not yet.

Yesterday’s carnal shenanigans had surprised him only briefly. He hadn’t been with a girl in ages, so of course passion would quickly flare to life with a new, exciting partner. Flare.
Froth.
Combust.
Conflagrate.
She set him on fire, possibly because she was such a flaming maniac herself.

Of course, he’d worked with erratic types before, very successfully. For five years, he’d managed to keep Jeremy Gray’s crazy on low boil. But was he ‘working’ with Caressa, really? Or was he doing something else altogether? His phone buzzed and Kyle smiled to see Jeremy’s number on the display screen. He’d always had impeccable timing.

“Hey, Jeremy.
What’s up?”

“I heard you were over on the West Coast.”

“Are you here?”

Jeremy laughed. “I’m in Denmark.”

“What time is it there?”

“I don’t know and I don’t particularly care.”

Kyle almost asked, “Is Nell there?” but instead bit his tongue. Then he realized he hadn’t even thought of Nell in several days. Jeremy was barreling on, bombarding him with questions. “What?” Kyle asked.