The Things She Says (9 page)

How could she have predicted it would put her on edge? Surely Kris had a little less respect for her because she couldn’t have purchased any of this on her own. She couldn’t ask him to come back later, when she was stable. Then she wouldn’t have needed rescue. They probably wouldn’t have ever met.

Fate had intervened, pushing them together. She and Kris were kindred souls. Romantics in a world designed to bleed it out of them. Instead of embracing it, he hid his true passionate nature from everyone, apparently clueless that it leaked out all over his films. His choice of music. His heroic defense against her brothers. The way he kissed with his whole body.

If she could convince him to accept that passion, all the obstacles to his heart would be gone. He had to be the one to make the move, to be so overcome, he gave in.

Unfortunately, Kris wasn’t any closer to cracking than he’d been all along. For a moment, in the car, she’d thought she’d had him, but no. Then after the nerve-racking robe retying debacle—maybe she wasn’t cut out for this.

“Amateur,” she whispered to her reflection. He needed a huge push. Bigger than the Ferris wheel, but more effective, with longer lasting results.

Her tummy fluttered. She wanted to be with him something fierce, to see straight into his soul through those limitless eyes because she was the only one he let in. She wanted to fall the rest of the way in love, and if she did her job, he’d be right behind her. When that happened, everything would merge. The future, last names, hearts. That was the real dream come true.

One push coming up.

The black stilettos took fifteen minutes of practice before she could walk in them without stumbling. She wobbled out of her bedroom. Kris sat at the table, tapping at his laptop, and glanced up when she called his name.

His expression darkened as his molten brown eyes did a once-over all the way to her toes, devouring her with his heated gaze. Her thighs pressed together involuntarily against the throb under her brand-new thong.

Without speaking, he shoved the chair back with his thighs and crossed the room. Grasping her hand, he spun her in a slow pirouette. Heat crept up her spine as he took in the backless dress.

“That,” he said, “was worth waiting for. I’m almost speechless. You’re stunning.”

“Thanks.” She ducked her head, suddenly embarrassed at the raw desire on his face. Since that had been the whole point of the dress, her reaction made no sense, but he’d been around lots of beautiful women. Surely she paled in comparison.

“Do you have your lipstick in your bag?” he asked.

He drew her closer so he could slide a hand around her neck, resting his fingers lightly on her flesh. She shuddered. “Am I supposed to?”

“Yeah. You’re going to need it.”

He lowered his head and kissed her. Her eyes shut as he flooded her with the beauty of his skill. When Kristian Demetrious kissed her, it killed her equilibrium.

His clever hands explored her bare back, warming it, sensitizing it. He pressed her against his frame, tight. The tiny pulls of his lips were slow, sensual, with simmering potential. But the kiss lacked abandon, winding down instead of ramping up.

Not so fast.

She shimmied her hips against his with an upward tilt, finding that perfect hard niche where they fit together, and rubbed against his solid chest as she angled her head to let him take her deeper.

Instead, he broke away, taking an unsteady step back and a ragged breath at the same time. “Remind me later to buy you several more pairs of those shoes. I really, really like you at that height.”

With her stomach twisting like a tornado, she motioned him over. “Come back. See what I got you.”

Warily, he edged closer. With one finger, she hooked the neckline of the dress and pulled it down, revealing the tiny, red butterfly tattoo a centimeter from her nipple.

His eyes went black as he zeroed in on her exposed breast, and he strangled on whatever he was trying to say. Now he was completely speechless.

She was going to hell. With bells on.

After smoothing the dress back into place, she said, “I’m starving. Ready? Where are we going?”

“I don’t remember. Give me a minute,” he said shortly and stared at the ceiling, running a trembling hand through his hair. “Get your lipstick.”

His accent was frayed, and it tingled her spine. She wanted to hear him say something really provocative with that voice, preferably while touching her.

She gathered her things and brushed the bulge in his pants as she walked past him through the door. He sucked in a shuddery breath but didn’t say anything. The butterfly had clearly produced results, but not the one she’d envisioned.

She needed to up her game even more. But how?

* * *

Casa di Luigi was the height of fine dining, with white-on-black tablecloths, more silverware at each place than she set for a family of four and endless numbers of servers who waited on them. Kris ordered red wine, and when it came, he watched her over the wineglass rim with a shadowy, hooded expression as he drank.

Muted clinks and murmurs of conversation floated around them, but they weren’t talking. Instead, a nonverbal swirl of innuendo crackled between them.

He set his glass on the table without breaking eye contact and picked up her hand. “Are you having a good time?”

“The best. This is a great restaurant.”

“Tell me more about your book,” he said out of nowhere. “What was it called?”

“Which one?
Embrace the Rogue?
”

“The one with Lord Raven. What’s it about?”

“Lord Ravenwood.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why do you want to know what it’s about?”

“I want to talk about something that interests you.”

She shrugged. “It’s about a duke who rescues a lady from a runaway carriage and it’s love at first sight. Except he’s...what?”

“That’s what it’s about?”

“What did you think it was? A more explicit, unillustrated version of the
Kama Sutra?
”

Kris choked on a sip of wine and took his time recovering. “What do you know about the
Kama Sutra?
”

“It’s a book, isn’t it?” She stared at him with a ghost of a smile. He’d started tracing her knuckles restlessly, but his eyes were fixed on her face. “Why, have you read it?”

“I have.”

The expectation sizzling through the air heightened. He brought her hand to his lips and lightly grazed the tips of her fingers. The shock traveled up her arm like a deluge swelling over the banks of the Rio Grande.

Then he said, “I can’t figure you out.”

“At last, my dastardly plan to be a woman of mystery has been fulfilled.” She could hardly keep her attention on the conversation as he nibbled her index finger. “Why does it seem like my fingers are always in your mouth?”

“Because I like the taste of you, and we’re in public. This is the best I can do.”

She closed her eyes against the rush of need spiraling through her abdomen. If he kept that up, she wouldn’t be doing a whole lot of withholding much longer.

Time to go on the offensive. He needed to make a move and do it soon or she would be forced to end this evening in a chaste kiss good-night at nine o’clock.

“So, about the
Kama Sutra,
” she said and leaned forward. The edge of the table shoved her bra down a centimeter. What little it had covered originally had already been pornographic. “Which one is your favorite?”

“Position?” His hand trembled and he pointedly kept his eyes on her face.

She gave him a look. “Yes, Sherlock. Position.”

A strangled sound launched from his throat. “Seriously? It’s not enough that I can’t erase the vivid picture in my head of what’s underneath that dress?”

“You started it with the tasting me in public,” she whispered in deference to the elderly couple at the next table.

Kris waved the beleaguered waiter away and tightened his grip on her hand. “Fine. You go first. What’s yours?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried them all yet.” She lifted a brow. “I’m in the market for a guinea pig actually.”

His breath hissed out and he let go of her hand. “This is not working.”

Then he made a show of examining his flatware. She folded her hands into her lap. Obviously she shouldn’t assume she could handle Kristian Demetrious.

“VJ,” he said, eyes still on the tines of the fork flipping between his first two fingers. “Help me out. This is your birthday present. A nice dinner. Dancing later. I’m following the stages. And I’m asking you nicely to stop talking about sex so we can have the romantic evening I’ve planned. Would you like to order dinner now?”

Following the stages? Her heart squeezed. So that’s why he’d asked about
Embrace the Rogue.
“No. I really don’t want dinner.”

“What would you like to do, then? I’m taking you dancing at a place that plays country music. We can go there now if you want and eat later.”

Warmth spread through her chest. He remembered what kind of music she liked and was willing to endure it for a few hours. For her. Kris had been trying to show her she’d infiltrated his disbelief in romance. It was a huge move, and she’d almost missed it because it hadn’t taken the form she’d expected.

“I’d be happy to help you out,” she said decisively. “Take me back to the hotel right now, or I’m never going to speak to you again.”

His intense gaze lasered in on hers, evaluating. “Then it’s okay to skip all the stages and dive right into bed?”

She swallowed a laugh. Did he really not realize? Or was romance so much a part of his nature, he’d done it unwittingly? “You didn’t skip any stages. You hit them all. I’m yours.”

More evaluating. “I’ll take you back to the hotel if that’s what you want. But, VJ, be sure. I’m still leaving to go back to L.A. in a few days.”

Not if I have anything to say about it.

She crossed her fingers under the table. If he wanted to keep pretending this was some casual encounter, she could, too. Whatever worked to shove him closer to embracing all the beautiful things he deserved. All the things they could have together.

“I’m clear. We’re just having fun, right?”

His mouth twitched. “Where do I volunteer to be a guinea pig?”

His wicked grin kick-started her lungs again.

He met her eyes and a shock of lust uncurled deep in her core as he skewered her with probing intensity. Kris always had a slight sensual edge but it was fundamental to the way he moved and spoke. A fluke of his DNA. This was different. Lashing desire radiated from him, and she couldn’t look away.

“I can’t wait to find out what your butterfly tastes like,” he said. “Last chance to back out.”

She went hot and cold simultaneously, and squirmed against the heat licking through her. “Give the waiter your credit card.”

“I have cash.” He yanked his wallet out of his pocket and tossed a hundred on the table. “How fast can you walk in those heels?”

“Bet you can’t keep up,” she said and sprang to her feet at the same instant he did.

Nine

T
he atmosphere during the drive to the hotel was thick with impatience. Kris skidded into a parking place and materialized at her door to help her out, then pulled her through the lobby to the elevator. He stabbed the button, and the doors slid open.

It was empty. As the doors closed, Kris whirled her against the back of the elevator and crushed his mouth to hers. An edge of violent desperation flavored his kiss, thrilling her. His hands were everywhere as he consumed her. He tongued his way down the curve of her neck, yanked her dress down and licked a nipple into his mouth.

Her head lolled back and hit the wall, but she barely noticed as he sucked her nipple hard with the same pulling sensation he always used with her tongue. Heat raged through her, between her legs and down her thighs, and she moaned.

His fingers snaked up the back of her leg, then burned across her bare bottom. He dipped under the straps holding her thong in place.

One finger eased along her crease, parting and thrusting against the wetness there. Consciousness nearly dissolved with the heightened sensation. His hands were magic, driving deep, filling her, fulfilling her. She thrust against the pressure, and the spiral inside tightened as his mouth switched to her other breast, treating it to the same perfect suction as the other. Then he nibbled on her nipple.

She bucked against his hand.

“Kris... Kris. Stop,” she choked out with gasping little breaths, nearly weeping as his mouth left her flesh.

“Why in God’s name should I do that?” he snapped.

She yanked on his shoulders until he straightened. “Because we’re at our floor. Let’s go inside.”

His eyelids slammed shut. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “I got carried away.”

The elevator doors slid open. His obvious chagrin was endearing, but she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why getting carried away was bad.

Without a word, he tucked her breasts away and led her out of the elevator. Smoothly, he slid the card key into the reader, pushed the door open and swept her up in his arms to carry her over the threshold and into his bedroom.

Elephants stampeded through her stomach. Rose petals were strewn all over the bed in a wholly romantic gesture. Her heart was lost. Probably had been since the first time he smiled at her on Little Crooked Creek Road.

Oh, God, what if she hadn’t recognized the stages? She’d never have known about the rose petals.

He set her down carefully, and without warning, hooked the shoulder straps of her dress and peeled it off, trapping her arms with the fabric.

“That is more like it,” he said with appreciation.

He looked his fill, studying her breasts—clearly visible through the transparent bra—with marked intensity, eyes hot and his gaze never wavering, until her cheeks were on fire. The butterfly had him mesmerized.

“I’m not a Monet,” she squawked, which was not the sexy voice she’d been going for.

“You are. You’re exquisite. And you have on too many clothes.” The dress was around her ankles instantly. “Red’s not actually my favorite color, by the way.”

“It’s not?” Dang it. She
knew
she shouldn’t have gone with the permanent tattoo. “What is?”

He placed one finger on the edge of the thong and pushed it down. Way down, and then grazed her nub with a knuckle. “That is. I want to see it.”

Wet heat pooled around his finger as he rubbed it back and forth. A long wave of desire crested and broke at his touch. He worked the finger inside her folds and then withdrew, pulling a hiss from her. She grabbed at his shoulders when her knees buckled.

“You can see it all you want,” she said breathlessly. “But you have to do something for me.”

“What’s that?”

“Talk to me with that incredible voice.” He went deep, and her inner walls clenched tight, and she moaned. “Kristian.”

His eyes darkened. “I cannot tell you what it does to me when you say that.”

“Try.”

He smiled and pulled her close. He nuzzled her ear and whispered a long string of Greek as he unhooked her bra, which he threw over his shoulder. Still murmuring, he backed her up until her thighs hit the bed. He sat her down. Somehow her thong was gone, too.

He knelt between her legs and watched her as he put his mouth where his finger had been. He did that sucking thing, like with her tongue, but against her nub and mouthed some more Greek intermittently, lips brushing her as he enunciated.

Part of her tried to pull away from the intimacy. She’d never be able to look him in the eye again, but oh, it was amazing, and she started to splinter, scooting her hips forward, involuntarily seeking his miraculous mouth.

Her head thrashed back and forth as he sucked and licked and murmured foreign words and drove her off the edge. Her spine curved as she erupted, and heat rippled from the epicenter of her climax.

He kissed her thigh, and she fell back onto the comforter, so sated her bones were like melted chocolate. He crawled up to lie next to her, and she was ashamed to note he still wore all his clothes.

“Talk to you like that?” His hands wandered into her hair, tangling it through his fingers as he stroked her jawline tenderly with a thumb.

How in the world had she gotten so incredibly lucky as to be lying naked on a bed with Kristian Demetrious?

“Exactly like that.” Her breath came in spurts. “And may I say you are extremely talented at...um, talking. But there’s this other thing I need you to do, too.”

In a daring move, she rolled and crawled on top of him, straddling him in that niche where they fit together, hip to hip. The man was hard all over, and she was dying to feel every golden millimeter.

His breath caught. “How talented do you think I am?”

“Let’s put it to the test.” She crushed a rose petal between her fingers and trailed it over his chiseled lips. “Next time I come, I want you inside me.”

Eyes closed, he wound up great bunches of comforter in his tight fists. “You’re making this very hard.”

She wiggled against his still-covered erection. “Isn’t that the idea?”

“Stop.” He stilled her hips with a firm hand on each one. “You’re driving me insane. I’m trying to do this right, and you’re not playing your part.”

“Oh? Maybe you should give me a script, Mr. Director. What should I be doing instead?”

“This is supposed to be
your
romantic fantasy evening, not mine.” His voice rumbled against her pleasantly. “So far, we haven’t eaten dinner, we didn’t go dancing and I nearly nailed you in the elevator. You should kick me out, and make me sleep in the car.”

He’d almost nailed her in the elevator? “Because why?”

His eyes closed for a beat. Obviously he was struggling with something. Maybe he didn’t find her all that attractive now that she was undressed. But then he raised his lids and her breath stuttered at his visible anguish. “You’re right. About what’s really going on inside me, how I suppress passion, and I’m this close to losing control. You’re so small. I don’t want to hurt you. Scare you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You could never hurt me.”

“Not intentionally.” With a swallow, he said, “This should be like one of your fairy tales. I’m trying. I really am.”

Her heart contracted, and she fell a little more. Somewhere in his whacked out creative mind, he’d come to the conclusion that romance equaled a chaste,
boring
encounter. He had missed the point.

She slid a hand under his shirt and placed it over his heart. With erratic beats pounding against her fingertips, she said, “Once upon a time, there was this prince who felt things so deeply, he was scared to let anyone else know, so he pretended he didn’t feel anything at all. Then he met this princess who really got that. And she wishes he would get over it already and screw her brains out. The end.”

He went still. Really still, and she nearly died. Kris being still was bad, especially now, at the watershed moment.

Come on, do it.

“I can’t, VJ,” he whispered. “You don’t understand.”

Her pulse leaped as she gave him the final push. “No. You don’t understand. I want all of you. No holds barred. I can take whatever you’ve got. Really. Let go, Kristian.”

Hunger whipped through his expression. Without warning, he sat up, grinding against the naked flesh between her thighs as he captured her mouth possessively with his. Stars exploded in her head, at their joined lips.

She’d given him permission to let go. But she’d vastly underestimated what that meant.

It wasn’t a kiss, but a primal mating call that swept through her veins like lava, demanding not only her body, but her soul. Long before the next beat of her heart, she surrendered.

* * *

Kris dropped the tight reins VJ had yanked from his fist.

Just for now. Just this once.

His body howled, yearning to feel, snarling to charge ahead. The world ceased to exist.

He wrapped her hair, that seductive riot of curls, in his hand and tilted her head back to expose her neck, sucking and laving until she moaned, vibrating against his length. He throbbed in response.

“Yes,” she whispered and rolled her hips against him, hot and fluid. “More. I’m so ready for you. What are you waiting for?”

He set her on her feet and stripped, ripping fabric and then fingering a condom into place. Impatiently, he hustled her backward until her back hit the wall. He crowded against her scorching body, skin on skin, a thigh between her legs and her slick center calling to him. The scent, sharp and feminine, saturated his senses.

Now.
It had to be now. He lifted her leg and flung it around his waist. With both hands on her bottom, he boosted her higher on the wall and pierced her in one swift stroke.

Yes, finally.

He sucked in a breath, fighting to keep the explosion at bay as he filled her to the hilt. She stretched to accept him perfectly.

In her ear, he murmured in Greek and suddenly had the strangest urge to switch to English. “This is my favorite position,” he said and withdrew so slowly, he thought he’d come apart. His voice was ragged. Raw. “You’re so open. So deep.”

English. Because he wanted her to understand him like no one else did.

As he pushed into her again, she stared him in the eye and said, “So are you.”

Yeah. He was. She’d split him open with her beautiful honesty, and it wasn’t terrible. There’d be a struggle to cram the lid back on, but that was later. Much later.

He slid out slowly to savor the feel of her. Too slow. He needed her, needed more, and she gave it instantly.
More.
And still more. She met him in the middle every time. So good. So amazing to just feel. To be lost in it. To give in to all the extremes, whatever they might be.

Harder and faster now, over and over, he pushed and she squirmed, as he wound them both higher with hard, insistent thrusts. She begged for more with that sexy moan. The wall kept her in place, steady, and the heat was intense, enveloping and surrounding him.

“I’m inside you,” he said with his teeth on her earlobe. Her fingernails bit into his back in an unearthly mix of pain and pleasure. “Come for me.”

With his name on her lips in a soul-shattering whisper, she did, clamping down on him so hard it triggered his own release. He poured himself out, eyes closed, muscles tensed, until he was so empty, he couldn’t feel his bones. She’d taken everything and more, even parts he’d intended to keep.

Sweat-slicked chests heaving against each other, he let her slide down the length of his body until she’d gained her balance, then disposed of the condom and drew her over to the bed.

Drained, he lay next to her, face-to-face. Wincing, he fingered the side of her neck. When had he done that? “There’s a bruise. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“I’m not,” she said. “Shut up and save your breath for round two, please. There are at least another hundred pages of the
Kama Sutra
left.”

He laughed and enfolded her hand with his. All the shadowy guilt drained away. She was something else, with an inner strength he’d almost missed amid all her talk of romantic fantasies. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”

“You, too.” Her eyes were closed but the small smile on her face warmed him. “Let me know when you’re rested up. The wall was hot and all, but I was pretty busy hanging on. I’d like to touch you. Here.”

Before he could open his mouth to decline the tempting round-two offer, her fingers trailed down his abdomen and circled his length.

“Mmm,” she purred. “You feel nice.”

He swore as blood rushed from his head and half filled the flesh under her fingers. He should get out of the bed. Retreat before what little control he’d regained snapped for good. “So soon? Now I know you’re overestimating my talents.”

“Or you’re underestimating mine.” Both hands engulfed him and she rotated them in opposite directions, almost yanking another release from him.

This time the curse didn’t make it out of his mouth. “Where did you learn that?”

“Auto-mechanic training.” She smirked and with a sensuous slide of her body down his, was at his waist and taking him between her lips.

Too late. He couldn’t leave now.

He didn’t want to leave now.

Lost in the hot suction of her mouth, he shut his eyes. She moaned with him deep in her throat. Vibrations rocked him, his butt tightened and he came. Hard. Twice in one night.

Victoria Jane was going to renew his faith.

“I’m in awe,” he murmured when she settled up against him. “You do have talent.”

“I’ve never done it before. Did I do it right?” She buried her face in his shoulder.

She was such a hot mix of seductress and innocent. Everything about her was arousing. He bit back a smile. “Maybe you should try again. Practice makes perfect.”

She smacked him, and he did laugh then. “I told you this would be fun,” he said. “I can’t remember it ever being this good.”

“That’s because you’ve always been so focused on pretending you’re unaffected. It takes a lot of energy to hold back.” She flipped onto her stomach and spread one of those gorgeous hands on his chest. She rested her chin on her fingers and sought his gaze. “Don’t do that anymore. Not with me.”