Show & Tell (10 page)

Read Show & Tell Online

Authors: Rhonda Nelson

BOOK: Show & Tell
13.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Something had happened to him in that instant, something so terrifying that Knox didn't dare name it, much less contemplate it. He'd looked at that beautiful, serene face of hers, that mess of bed-head curls, and a curious emotion had swelled in his chest, pushed into his throat and had forced him to swallow. His hands had actually trembled.

The picture she'd made in that instant was indelibly imprinted in his mind. No matter how much she blared and blustered, no matter how much blue sleet she slung in his direction, Knox would always remember the way she'd looked right then. She didn't know it yet, but she'd never be able to freeze him out again.

“Okay,” Rupali said. “Let's begin.”

Savannah leaned over him and smiled. “Let me know if I hurt you.”

Oh, hell.

She slid her small fingers into his hair and rolled his scalp in little circles, front to back and side to side, alternating pressure with light touches and firmer kneads until Knox heard a long, decidedly happy growl of approval and realized it had come from the back of his own throat. She skimmed her
fingers over the sensitive skin behind his ears, tunneled them into the thick hair at his nape. She scratched and massaged, kneaded and rubbed. Unexpected pleasure eddied through him and, though he imagined Edgar and Rupali would think that he'd totally missed the point of this exercise, it didn't take long for Knox to decide that those talented little fingers could be put to better use south of his navel.

He was a man, after all. He wouldn't be satisfied until her hand was wrapped around his throbbing rod, pumping him until he exploded with the force of his climax.

Still, Knox thought, as Savannah's fingertips slid through his hair once more, this was nice. Perhaps Edgar was onto something with all this erotic massage stuff. Every muscle was languid and relaxed, save for his dick—hell, he could do a no-hands push-up, he was so friggin' hard right now.

“Are you planning on hosting a party down there?” Savannah leaned down and asked him.

Knox slowly opened his eyes. “What?”

She was smiling one of those secret little smiles that made Knox feel as if he'd been caught with his fly down. “Are you planning on having a party down there?” She glanced pointedly at his groin. “You've erected quite a tent.”

“Not a party,” Knox told her silkily. “An intimate dinner for one. You hungry?”

Her eyes narrowed and then she licked her lips suggestively.
“Starving.”

If he hadn't been exercising tremendous control, Savannah would have turned him into the premature ejaculator she'd claimed he was with that little dramatic display.

“Givers,” Rupali said, “move on to your receiver's face. Remember to note what pleases your lover.”

“Would you like to know what pleases your lover, Savannah?” Knox murmured. “Would you like me to tell you?”

She swallowed and he felt her fingers tremble against his cheek. “I don't have a lover.”

“That can be easily remedied.”

She laughed softly, swept her fingers over his brow, down his cheek and along his jaw. “You wouldn't say these things if there was any blood left in your head.”

Knox laughed. “If I'm not mistaken,
all
of it's in my head.”

“Not the one that is responsible for logical thinking.” She pressed a couple of fingers against his lips. “Shut up, Knox. People are starting to stare.”

“Let 'em. I'm like Rupali. I'm proud. Besides, I've got something to prove.” He grinned. “I'm going to break my two-minute erection record.”

She tsked regretfully and massaged his temples. “Sorry, can't let that happen. Someone must protect our cover.”

“Baby, you can't stop me.”

“Wanna bet?”

Knox stilled and looked up at her. Clearly she hadn't gotten it yet, and wasn't going to until he spelled it out for her. “Savannah, my head is in your lap, inches away from the part of you that I want more than my next breath, and your hands might be on my face—which feels lovely, by the way—but in my mind, your hands are wrapped—along with your lips—around my rod and I'm seconds away from coming harder than I ever have in my life.” He paused and let that sink in, watching her expression waver between determination and desire. His gaze held hers. “There is absolutely nothing you can say that's going to make me lose this erection.”

A long, pregnant pause followed his blunt soliloquy. She blinked drunkenly for a second, then recovered and said four words that were guaranteed to make any hetero male lose even his most valiant erection.

“Chuck's whacking off again.”

“Aw, Savannah,” Knox woefully lamented. With a wince of regret, he squeezed his eyes shut but couldn't force the image away. The ick factor of Chuck and his happy hand swiftly deflated Knox's prized hard-on.

“And the big top comes down,” Savannah whispered dramatically.

Knox opened his eyes and glared at her with amused accusation. “You are evil.”

She smiled with faux modesty. “I try.”

Knox felt a silent laugh rumble deep in his chest. “I'm sure you do.”

A comfortable silence ensued, broken only by the soft sighs of pleasure that ebbed through the room. Savannah continued her sweet assault upon his face, gently massaging him. He'd let his lids flutter closed, but could feel the kiss of her gaze examining his every feature, measuring the muscle and bone against her hands. He heard a poignant, almost resigned sigh slip past her lips and wondered just what heavy realization she had come to. What he'd give to have even a glimpse into those thoughts.

Just as Knox was truly beginning to relax, Rupali interrupted the sensual play with more instructions. The givers and receivers were once again directed to change positions.

“We will massage backs and bellies, rumps and thighs, calves, insteps and even the smallest toe,” Rupali told them. “No part of our bodies—aside from our genitals—shall be overlooked.”

“You will know your lover's body better than your own by the end of this day,” Edgar chimed in. “You will know what he or she likes, and you will discover neglected areas of your own body that bring pleasure when touched. Think of your lover's body like a musical instrument. Her sighs, her moans of pleasure, are your music, her quivers your applause.”

“Women, the same holds true for you,” Rupali shared. “Every indrawn breath, every expression of pleasure, every guttural growl from your man is his
own primal music. While learning how to play your man, and while you, in turn, are played, your inner harmony begins to take form. The voice of your one-being will become clearer.” She paused. “Seek that place, class.
Kundalini,
” she emphasized. “Combined life force and sexual energy. Once you have experienced it, nothing else will ever suffice.”

Knox whistled low, and he and Savannah shared a look. Her beauty, the absolute perfection of her face, struck him once more and the desire to reach out to slide his fingertips over those smooth features almost overpowered him.

Once you have experienced it, nothing else will ever suffice.

Knox grimly suspected those words held a double meaning for him. After Savannah…no one else would ever do.

10

T
HOUGH IT TOOK
a monumental amount of restraint, Savannah limited her bath to just that—a bath. She and Knox had managed to make it from class back to their room after the all-day erotic massage session and, though her limbs had quaked and were limp as noodles, and her loins had been locked in a pit of permanently aroused despair, she'd managed to survive without begging him to plunge into her and put her out of her sexually frustrated misery.

Her only consolation was that Knox had been mired in that pit as well and, quite honestly, had not fared as well as she. Savannah's lips quivered. Her nipples didn't quite cause the stir his prominent erection did. When Knox was aroused, everyone knew it, could hardly fail to notice. She hated to dwell on it so, but Savannah couldn't seem to conquer her fascination with his enormous…article.

Neither could anyone else, for that matter, a fact that both annoyed and delighted her. For all intents and purposes of this workshop, that colossal penis was
hers
and hers alone. Both men and women alike gazed at them with envy, the men at Knox because
they longed to be equally blessed, and the women, like her, were most likely astounded at the sheer size of him. Savannah enjoyed the being envied part—it was their greedy gazes lingering on her borrowed penis that pissed her off.

She'd heard a couple of the women talking about the phenomenon on the way out. “Pity he can't keep it up longer than two minutes though,” one had said regretfully and to Knox's extreme embarrassment. During that session, his problem had seemed genuine to all. Every time that sucker had stood at attention longer that it should, Savannah had whispered the magic words, and
poof!
it would disappear. The magic words being, “Chuck's whacking off again.” Cruel, she knew, but not any more cruel than what she'd suffered.

If she possessed even a shred of sanity by the time this workshop was over, Savannah would consider herself extremely lucky.

The evening ahead would undoubtedly be as trying as this day had been. As soon as she'd mentioned taking a bath, Knox had proclaimed it an excellent idea, and had once again tried to come out of that damned
kurta.
Truthfully, Savannah would have liked nothing better than to have taken him up on the idea, would have liked nothing better than to have had his hot, hard wet body wrapped around and pulsing inside hers. The tub had been designed for sin and so had his body and she wanted it more desperately with each passing second.

Quite honestly, Savannah didn't have a clue what they were supposed to do now. She'd laid all her cards on the table, and she supposed Knox had, too. He'd admitted that he wanted her now, and it was the
now
that kept messing with her head, the
now
that she was having trouble getting past.

A part of her wanted to say,
Consequences be damned, you've wanted him forever, here's your opportunity, just go for it already!

But another part hated knowing that he
hadn't
wanted her to begin with, that it had taken a sex workshop for him to consider her attractive, and she seriously suspected her newfound appeal had more to do with convenience than actual interest. If she gave in to her baser needs and rode him until his eyes rolled back in his head as she so very much wanted to do, would she regret it later? Or would she regret it more if she didn't?

Savannah didn't know and, luckily, wouldn't have to decide until tomorrow…provided she didn't expire from longing first.

Knox rapped on the bathroom door, startling her. “The food's here. Come feed me.”

A wry grin curled her lips as she opened the bathroom door. “I should let you starve,” she told him.

“Why?”

“Just for the hell of it.”

He shivered dramatically. “Chilly, chilly.” That verdant green gaze was shrewd and glinted with humor. “You must not have had as much fun in the
tub this evening. Don't worry, I can cure what ails you.” His voice was low, practically a purr, and it sent a flurry of sensation buzzing through her.

She'd just bet he could, Savannah thought with a mental ooh-la-la. Did she have a prayer of resisting him? she wondered with furious despair.

After everything else they'd been through over the past twenty-four hours, feeding each other seemed downright tame. They spoke little during the meal, just systematically fed each other the tender strips of Hawaiian chicken, green beans, and macaroni and cheese, the latter being particular messy and involving a lot of cleanup.

Which meant a great deal of licking and sucking, and tongue in general.

Presently, a couple of Savannah's fingers were knuckle deep in Knox's hot mouth, and he'd decided to make a grand spectacle of getting her clean. He slid his tongue along her finger and alternately nibbled and sucked. Soft then hard, slow and steady, and, all the while, his heavy-lidded gaze held her enthralled.

Initially Savannah had managed a mocking smile, but she gloomily suspected it had lost its irreverent edge and had been replaced by a stupidly besotted grin. Her pulse tripped wildly in her veins and the desire that had never fully receded came swirling through like a riptide, washing away reason and rationale and anything that closely resembled common sense.

Knox finally commenced his cleaning and released her tingling fingers. “Savannah…can I ask you something?”

She blinked, still wandering in a sensual fog. “Sure.”

“Where are you from?” he asked lightly. “Where did you grow up?”

The fog abruptly fled. Savannah suppressed a sigh and took a couple of seconds to shore up her defenses and decide how she should respond. She'd known that he'd ask—she'd watched the very questions form in his mind. Perhaps if she told him enough to satisfy his curiosity, he'd leave well enough alone. One could hope, at any rate.

Savannah pushed her plate away. “I grew up in lots of different places.”

“Military?”

She blew out a breath. “No…foster care. My parents died when I was six.”

Knox winced. “Oh. Sorry.” He looked away. “Damn, I—”

Savannah hated this part. It was the same scenario every time. As soon as she told someone about her parents, they always apologized and then lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. She'd secretly hoped Knox would be different, but—

“That sucks, Savannah,” Knox finally said. He plowed a hand through his hair, clearly out of his comfort zone, and his concerned gaze found hers. “I
know that sounds so lame, but damn…that just really sucks.”

No points for eloquence, Savannah thought as her heart unexpectedly swelled with some unnamed emotion, but he definitely scored a few points for the blunt, wholly accurate summation. “Thank you. You're absolutely right.” She smiled, blew out a stuttering breath. “It did suck.”

He arched a brow, leaned down and casually rested his elbows on his knees and let his hands dangle between his spread thighs. “No family you could have gone to live with?”

“No,” Savannah replied with a shake of her head, shoving the old familiar hurt back into the dark corner of her heart where she kept it. “There was no one. We were a family of three and they died…and then there was me.”

“No brothers or sisters?”

“Nope.” Time for her part of the interview to be over, Savannah decided, drawing in a shaky breath. She smacked her thighs. “No more questions, Knox…unless you want to answer a few of mine.”

He smiled and lifted one heavily muscled shoulder in an offhanded shrug. “Go ahead. Shoot. My life is an open book.”

We'd just see about that, wouldn't we? Savannah thought. “Why do you work so hard at looking like you don't work hard?”

His affable mask slipped for half a second, and if
she hadn't been watching closely, she would have missed it altogether. “What?”

Savannah leveled him with a serious look. “I've watched you. I used to think that everything just came so easily to you…but I was wrong. You work very hard at your job, yet you make it a point to look like you don't.” She paused. “Why is that, Knox?”

He looked away. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

“The hell you don't. Be honest.”

Knox swallowed. “Do you want the truth?”

“No,” she deadpanned. “Tell me a lie. Of course, I want the truth!”

He smiled at that, then looked away once more. “It's simple, really. Everyone expects me to fail, and I don't want anyone to know just how much I want to succeed.” He laughed self-consciously. “There you have it. My big dark secret.”

He was right. It was simple, and yet more meaning and explanation lurked in that one telling sentence than she could have hoped for. Another thought surfaced.

“What do you mean
everyone?
” she asked.

Another dry humorless laugh rumbled from his chest. “Just what I said—everyone. Parents, co-workers, they all expect it.” He passed a hand wearily over his face. “My parents keep waiting for me to come and work with my father, and so does everyone at the
Phoenix.
No one realizes that I'm not going anywhere, that I've chosen my career.” His de
termined, intent gaze tangled with hers. “I'm a journalist. This is who I am, what I do. Does that make sense?”

Regret twisted her insides. Suddenly lots of things were beginning to make sense, Savannah thought, including the fact that she'd been no better than anyone else, if not worse. She'd taken one look at Knox, panicked, and had not gone to the trouble to look beyond her first impression, beneath the surface of his irreverent attitude. She'd formed the one uncharitable opinion and held fast to it, because she'd been too terrified to face the alternative.

Savannah swallowed. “It, uh, makes perfect sense. And Knox, for what it's worth, I think you're one helluva journalist.”

His guarded expression brightened and dimmed all in the same instant. He looked away. “You're just saying that.”

Savannah grinned at him. “Have you ever known me just to toss out a compliment?”

Those sexy lips tipped into an endearing smile. “No.”

“Then the proper response is thank you.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

The mood had become altogether too serious, Savannah decided. “We should get started on those chakras,” she told him.

Knox winced, rubbed the back of his neck. “You're right. Do you mind if I grab a quick shower first?”

Savannah shook her head. “I need to organize my notes. We have a story to write, after all.”

And she had some thinking to do…and a decision to make.

 

“I
SWEAR
I'
LL CATCH YOU
.”

“I know that,” Savannah said, exasperated.

“Then what's the problem?”

She speared her fingers through her hair and glared at him despairingly. “I can't let myself fall. I—I just can't do it. It's not a question of you being able to catch me—it's the whole idea of letting you. Don't you get it?”

Regrettably, he did, Knox thought. They'd been at this blind-trust test for the better part of thirty minutes and she still hadn't been able to let him catch her. Her reticence made perfect sense, now that she'd shared a little of her history.

Though Savannah had been very glib about the loss of her parents and her childhood, Knox had nonetheless glimpsed the little girl who'd felt abandoned beneath the woman who had learned to cope. Hell, no wonder she had trust issues. She'd had to learn to trust herself and no one else. She was completely alone. That wholly depressing thought had fully hit him while he'd been in the shower.

Savannah Reeves didn't have anyone.

Not a single living soul in this world to share her life with. Granted, his parents hadn't always supported him the way he would have liked…but at least
they were there. Had provided the necessities and more to see him raised.

Savannah had gone through the foster-care system and apparently had come through the experience without so much as a mentor. If there had been anybody—anybody at all who'd made a difference in her life—she would have shared that. What she'd said had revealed a lot, but what she hadn't said revealed more.

In all truth, Knox could have waited to take his shower in the morning, but after listening to her resignedly tell him about her parents, Knox had suddenly been filled with self-loathing and disgust. He'd turned into the whiny little rich boy he'd always sworn he'd never become. So what if his parents didn't like his job? They'd get over it. So what if his co-workers at the
Phoenix
didn't respect him? He'd do his job to the best of his ability, and he'd
make
them, by God. He wouldn't leave them a choice.

When compared with the trials of Savannah's life, Knox's little letdowns had seemed petty, selfish and small.
He'd
felt small, and Knox had decided that the only way he could redeem himself was to become someone she respected…and someone she trusted.

Thus, he'd come out of his shower prepared to conquer her trust issues. Knox frowned. So far, it wasn't working.

“Okay,” Knox finally said. “Let's try something different. Face me and fall forward.”

Savannah heaved an impatient sigh. “This is pointless. I'm not—”

“Do it.”

“Oh, all right.” She moved to stand in front of him.

“Now look at me and fall.”

She chewed anxiously on her bottom lip, fastened her worried gaze onto his and fell…right into his outstretched arms.

Knox grinned, unaccountably pleased. His mood lightened considerably. “Now that's more like it.”

She smiled hesitantly. “It is, isn't it? Thanks, Knox. That was a good idea.”

His chest swelled, amazed that he'd been able to impress her. “Okay, now let's try this. Stand with your side to me and fall.”

Other books

Dark Ransom by Sara Craven
Dreaming of Jizzy by Y. Falstaff
Reheated Cabbage by Irvine Welsh
The London Deception by Addison Fox
Pack Trip by Bonnie Bryant
Between by Lisa Swallow
Crónica de una muerte anunciada by Gabriel García Márquez
Monkey in the Middle by Stephen Solomita