ProvokeMe (18 page)

She lifted her hair off the back of her neck as the line
moved.
“What about you?”

“Single and loving it.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He smiled and his hand found her hip again,
ostensibly to nudge her forward.
“So this sort-of lover of yours.
Does he mind
sharing?”

Oh Lord.
“I don’t know, truthfully.” He’d done it the
other night, but he’d made it clear that it was a one-time event.
“But I’m not into
it.”

Liar, liar.

She almost asked how he’d changed so drastically since the
last time she’d seen him but then she’d have to answer that question herself.
Right now, that was the last thing she wanted to explain.
If she even could.

“Have you tried it before?”

She glanced around the lot for Spencer’s car before
answering.
There were tons of people roaming about and she had no way of
telling if he was already inside or at the back of the line.
“Yeah, I have,
actually.
I’m not into it,” she said again.
Maybe if she kept saying it, the
lie would become the truth.

If this line of conversation continued, she was going to
whip out her cell phone and call Spencer.
It wasn’t only that Paul was asking
her questions unbefitting a man who’d once worn a pocket protector.
It was that
in this crazy environment, anything went.
If she went inside and had a drink
with him, she’d probably get drawn into the same sort of scenario she had the
other night with Gary.
And Dan.

That wasn’t what she wanted.
At all.
Not with a guy she
knew.
One she’d known pretty damn well, once upon a time.

They reached the door a couple minutes later.
They’d had a
pleasant conversation, sans references to sex, about their lives since the last
time they’d seen each other.
She mentioned the bookstore, he told her about his
position as a museum curator.
All talk of threesomes had been dropped.

But then they walked inside, and before she knew it, they
were on the dance floor.
Even without benefit of alcohol, she liked to dance.
She didn’t do it often, because she had a personal preference not to look like
an uncoordinated amazon.
But here she could be anyone she wanted to be and no
one would notice or care.

Paul, she discovered, had progressed way beyond the jerky
rendition of the electric slide he’d performed the one and only time she’d
ventured to a club with him during college.
Now he had moves.
Smooth, sensuous
moves.

He danced close as his hands slid down her arms.
“Almost as
good as sex,” he said, lowering his mouth to hers though he hadn’t moved to
kiss her.

Thank God.
Enough parts of their bodies were making out
already.

She wore one of the two dresses she’d bought today.
Short,
black and backless, it revealed the requisite amount of skin, which made her
feel entirely too exposed when the hands on her body weren’t Spencer’s.
Especially when those hands were now on her shoulder blades, on her bare skin,
and she wasn’t shaking them off.

Paul’s head dipped toward hers as he picked up the pace.
The
expression in his eyes was hard to read in this light.
One thing that wasn’t
hard to notice, however, was the sizable erection digging into her belly.

To avoid having to tell him no again, Kelly whirled around
and linked her arms around his neck.
She swayed against him but her mind was
working way too fast for her to lose herself in the dance.
His arms came around
her waist, holding her nice and snug while the heat between them climbed
exponentially.

Spencer, where the fuck are you?

All around them couples were in the same sorts of clinches
and she was willing to bet none of the women were missing a man who hadn’t
bothered to show up.

She tried to tell herself he was busy.
The lure of work was
one she understood well.
But he knew what kind of place this was, and he’d
picked the damn time.
Did he
want
her to hook up with some other guy?
Maybe that had been his twisted agenda all along.
He’d stepped between her and
Gary, but he’d invited Dan to join them, hadn’t he?
For all she knew, he’d set
up their meeting tonight as a test.

If so, she had a feeling she was about to fail.

She still hadn’t called him.
So what did that say about her?
Did some part of her want him to find her with Paul?

A wave of longing swept between her thighs at the memory of
the other night.
The look on Spencer’s face when Dan had been touching her,
when he’d been fucking her breasts…

Yeah, she wanted him to find her.
More than anything, she
wanted him to watch, however far things went.
She’d never guessed she’d be into
performing for a man—or in this case, a crowd—but knowing how turned-on it made
him turned her on just as much.
She just plain liked being the center of
attention for once.
Not all the time, but right now she was having fun.

Was that wrong?

It wasn’t cheating, not if her guy was okay with it.
And he
wasn’t even technically her guy, so where was the harm?
She knew how she felt
about Spencer, and no orgasm given or received from another man would change
that.

“Looks like your guy’s not here.” Paul’s breath felt warm
and silky against her neck.
“And I am.”

Perhaps she should cut her losses and enjoy Paul.
After all,
a man in the bush beat one who’d gotten lost in the forest any day.

She closed her eyes.
Why couldn’t tonight be like the other
night, when Spencer had shown up at the perfect time?
She was enjoying herself,
or she would be if she weren’t so tied up in knots about what was right and
wrong.
Nothing that had happened or would happen was to make Spencer jealous.
It was just a natural response to a man she liked who found her attractive.

It wasn’t as if she had a claim on Spencer, or vice versa.
Most likely, she never would.
Even if she spilled her heart at his feet like so
much red goo, he’d step over the mess and keep right on going.
Maybe sleeping
with Paul was exactly what she needed to forget that for a little while.

Forget?
Yeah, right.
And maybe she was kidding
herself.

“I take that back.
I think your guy’s here.” A soft chuckle
ruffled her hair.
“Either that or I’m getting a death stare from some random
stranger.”

Her heart leapt against her breastbone.
She almost imagined
she could smell his crisp aftershave over the mix of leather, smoke and sweat
that filled the room.
But she didn’t look.
That was part of the thrill.

“Describe him,” she murmured, hoping Paul heard her.

“Hard to see details, but he’s clean-cut.
Well-dressed.
Doesn’t look like he belongs here.
He’s watching you.”

Her pulse spiked.
“Keep dancing.”

“As you wish.”

Paul cupped her hips to guide their rhythm and she let
herself go, let her body move with his while her mind and heart were with
Spencer.
Somehow it shouldn’t be right to use Paul’s desire to increase her
ultimate pleasure, but it felt good.
Knowing other women wanted Spencer and him
knowing the reverse was also true made everything between them that much more
combustible.

“He’s still watching,” Paul said as she gripped his thigh.

“Mmm-hmm.”

She let her head drop back against Paul’s chest—bonus for
her that he was so tall—and slowly opened her eyes.
Her gaze went right to the
man dominating her thoughts.
He leaned against the wall, his hair haloed from
the glow of the sconce just behind him.
His face was mostly cast in shadows
that defined the hollows in his cheeks and the granite-hard set of his jaw.
Tonight he wore head-to-toe black, and when he pushed off the wall to advance
toward her,
prowl
was the word that came to mind.

Her clit throbbed.
She wanted his mouth there, tugging on
her swollen flesh as he’d savored her nipples last night.
One flick of his
tongue against her pussy and she’d go off, showering his chin with her release.

Paul rubbed against her, his movements decidedly sexual even
as Spencer approached.
The delicious darkness in the curl of his lips didn’t
frighten her or make her want to ask Paul to stop.

He stopped in front of them but he didn’t speak.
Nor did he
touch her.
She didn’t feel in control of what was happening any longer but her
helplessness only increased her excitement.
As she and Paul continued to dance,
Spencer’s gaze slammed against hers, his face brutally clear even in the smoky
atmosphere of the club.
The heat contained in that single look set off a series
of mini-explosions in her body.
Her breath quickened and her skin prickled as
if she’d been out in the sun too long.
Still he stared, deep inside her to
where she quivered and waited for him to make a move.

And then she shocked herself by making that move instead.

She gripped the hem of her dress, hiking it up her thigh.
His urgent, seeking gaze dropped to the vee of her legs.
Never before had she
been
consumed
by a glance.
Swallowed whole without even a single
fingertip on her body to stem the overwhelming ache.
Her hands shook as she
fought with the material, unable to bare herself fast enough.
A moan broke from
her when the sultry breeze from the bodies swaying around them hit the damp
material of her thong.
God, she was burning up.
Burning alive, trapped by her
own longing.

Paul’s cock brushed her ass as he moved against her, his
hands still on her hips, his fingers so close to where she so desperately
needed to be filled.
But he didn’t do the honors.
All three of them knew who
she wanted there.

Everything was so loud all of a sudden.
The reggae music.
The voices, the laughter.
Her heartbeat a muted roar in her ears.

Kelly wrenched aside the soaked strip binding her last
vestige of control and gasped as air wafted over her dripping slit.
She’d never
needed so violently in her life.
But he wouldn’t give her anything she hadn’t
pleaded for first.

“Kiss me,” she begged, her voice a guttural cry barely loud
enough for him to hear.

Kiss me?
What the hell?
If he went for her mouth,
she’d freaking
die
.

Spencer batted her hand away, splaying his much larger one
low on her belly in a primitive caress.
Beneath the heat of his palm,
everything inside her clenched, waiting.
Either her panties melted off her body
or he ripped them away because the next thing she knew they were gone.

He kneeled before her, gold hair shining, dark eyes pulling
her down so far, so fast, she didn’t even know she’d fallen.
Just before his
mouth touched her, his hand flexed, fingers widening until it seemed as if he
was everywhere at once.
Inside her and out.
Branding her so she’d never feel
quite the same way for anyone else, ever again.

She saw his nostrils flare an instant before the light
changed and again plunged him into shadow.
Rivulets of need soaked her inner
thighs.
Could he smell how much she wanted him?
Then his tongue pierced her,
his fingers spreading her open for his invasion, and she didn’t care about
anything but taking him as far inside she could.

Lost in sensation, Kelly threaded her fingers through his
cornsilk hair.
He was her tether to earth, her anchor when she wanted only to
fly apart.
His movements were both quick and slow, his rhythm impossible to
learn.
He sped up and her orgasm neared, slowed down and the scorching fire in
her veins banked until he turned up the heat again.

Firm hands massaged her upper arms in time with the subtle
pumps of Paul’s hips against her ass.
Her head lowered to his shoulder.
If she
hadn’t had the support of his rigid body behind her, she would’ve sunk to the
floor.

Her throat constricted as the intensity between her legs
built, decimating the last of her inhibitions.
She didn’t know what was going
to happen.
She wasn’t even sure which man she’d be going home with that night.
She wanted it to be Spencer.
Prayed it would be.
But there were no certainties
and no safety clauses.
There was only anticipation and urgency.