Two Week Seduction (8 page)

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Authors: Kathy Lyons

BOOK: Two Week Seduction
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And then a cry.

“Alea!”

Chapter Eight

John groaned as he collapsed sideways so he wouldn’t crush her. He pulled Alea against his side. Great God in Heaven, it had never been that good before. Never. And now all he could do was lie here and grin. Well, on the inside. Outside he was still slack-jawed with shock.

“Mmmmm,” she murmured as she rolled tighter to him. He helped, lifting an arm to wrap around her.

He ought to clean up. He ought to take his boots off and cover them both with a blanket. What he did was nuzzle her neck. He could live a long time on just her scent. “You always smell good,” he murmured.

She was a silent a moment, but he felt her lips curve against his shoulder. “That’s not what you said in high school.”

Huh? Oh right. He’d been trying to keep her away so her brother wouldn’t kill him. “That’s what I thought on the inside.”

“Mmmmph.”

He heartily agreed.

“So weren’t you going to bend me over a table or something?” She stretched closer and her teeth grazed the ridge of his collarbone.

He cracked an eye. “You can’t be that insatiable.”

“I am where you’re concerned.”

“Can I take off my boots?”

“I’ll think about it.”

He grinned. He’d give a lot to spend forever with this woman. But as soon as the thought hit, the next one came. And the next. And the next thousand. Memories, mostly. First of her brother warning him away, then of all the myriad differences between them. She was from a family of lawyers, had a nice home, and lunched with the Kennedys, or Jacksonville’s equivalent. As for his family, the only high-class lunches they got were at the Cheesecake Factory, where his sister worked as a waitress.

In short, this was a hot night of fun, but any thought of forever was just ridiculous and he had better understand that now. Which meant he really needed to get out of here. He had no control around Alea and that was dangerous.

“Where you going?” she asked.

He hadn’t even realized he’d started rolling away, but at her question he stilled. “Nowhere. Just want out of these boots.”

“If you must.”

“Unless you’d rather I get dressed again.” It was a serious question and he watched her frown into the sheet. Then she slowly lifted her head.

“No, John. I don’t want you getting dressed again. I want you naked and inside me.”

His gaze ticked to the door for a split second. He tried to cover, but she saw everything.

“So you’re a come and run kind of guy,” she said.

He swallowed, the answer swirling in his head. Yes, he was. No, he wasn’t. Hell, around her, he didn’t know what he was. He rubbed a hand over his face, blocking his view of that shock of red hair as it trailed across her cheek. “I just wanted to take my boots off.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Really?”

“Really,” he lied.

“Oh. Then I’m making a big deal out of nothing?”

“Kinda.”

“Oh. Shit.”

He laughed. He couldn’t help it. He was feeling awkward. His insides were jittery, and damn it, he was getting hard again. Yet in the middle of all that, she’d just made him laugh. “You mess with my head.”

“I’d like to mess with your head. I’d like to—”

“Stop. Jesus, just stop.”

She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. Hair wild, skirt still wrapped around her hips, and those thigh highs making his dick stand up and take notice. But she just looked at him, her expression wary. “What?”

“I’m into you, Alea. You don’t have to go crude to get me to stay. Don’t—” He cut off his words, hating the taste of them on his tongue.

“Don’t what?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t give me that. Finish your sentence. Don’t what?”

“Don’t sink to my level. You’re better than that.”

She pushed up to a sitting position, her brows arched while she simultaneously pulled down her skirt. “I’m better than what? Than someone who speaks directly to her lover? Who says what she wants and how? Funny me, I thought that was something to aspire to, not run from.”

Well, put like that she had a point. But… He rubbed a hand over his face, feeling the frustration build. He was naked except for his boots and suddenly the woman was fully clothed and looking at him like…well, like a damned princess demanding her due. “Why are you getting pissy?”

She reared back. “Why are you picking a fight?”

“I’m not picking a fight.” Except a more rational part of his brain told him he was. He ignored it and focused on his other questions. “I’m sitting here with my balls hanging out and I’m wondering if I was set up.”

She blinked. “Set up? How?”

“What were you doing at my bar?”


Your
bar? Did you buy it?”

“No. But it’s been my bar since I was twelve and snuck in the back. It was my first job, too.”

“So that makes it yours and I’m not allowed to go there?”

“That makes it odd that you suddenly show up.”

She folded her arms and glared at him. “I’ve been playing pool there for years.
Years.

“Why not someplace downtown?”

She swung her legs out of the bed, her boots making a crisp click when they hit the floor. “Because I don’t like any of the downtown bars. I like your bar.”

He leaned down, facing her across the bed. “Exactly.
My
bar.”

She nodded. “Yeah. And you know the first time I went there? Three days after you and my brother went to basic. I was missing you.”

“Me—”

“And him! I can do that, you know. Miss you both. And you both liked the bar so I went there and played pool. I’ve been going there ever since.”

“Dressed like that?”

She dropped her hands on her hips, one thigh high boot stretched out to the side as she glared at him. “You didn’t seem to mind this outfit an hour ago.”

Of course he didn’t mind it. It made him hot just looking at it. Just like every other man alive. “And do you also give sex to any guy who beats you?”

“No one’s beaten me in years except for Harvey.” He opened his mouth, but she held up her hand in warning. “Don’t you dare. Harvey’s a good friend and three times my age.”

“He ought to have spanked your ass.”

She gasped in shock. Not surprising since he couldn’t believe he’d just said that. But damn it, he didn’t regret it.

“You don’t get it, Alea. You don’t know what that outfit says to guys like me.”

She straightened up, and her voice went low and threatening. “I can wear what I damn well please.”

“Of course you can. And you can get slammed up against a wall, too, and have things done to you that you don’t want.”

“I can protect myself,” she bit out.

“The hell you can!” And with that he was across the room. She had to understand. She had to know what she was advertising when she dressed like that. Before she did more than gasp, he’d spun her around and slammed her against her dresser. Her legs were pinned and her upper body was bending forward as he stepped up behind her to hold her still. But she wasn’t done fighting. He was buck naked except for his boots. Fortunately, that was enough to protect him when her stiletto slammed down on his foot. A good try, but not enough. Certainly not against him.

He used those boots now to kick her legs apart. She struggled, but he was stronger. And when she tried to leverage up with her arms, he grabbed both her wrists and twisted them behind her back. A moment later, she was face down next to her hairbrush, and he was thick and hard as he nudged against her core.

“Tell me again,” he said as he fought to pull his dick away. “Tell me how you can protect yourself.”

She fought him, but he didn’t give an inch. She was pinned and she knew it. He waited in silence as she came to accept that in this she was vulnerable. He didn’t do it to humiliate her, he did it to prove a point so she’d dress with more restraint next time she went out.

“Okay,” she said, her body going soft. “Okay, I give.”

He straightened up, forcing himself to let go of her wrists and back away. It was way harder than it should have been, which was just one more reason he wasn’t the man for her. He was so busy castigating himself that he didn’t see her grab the hairbrush. And he sure as hell didn’t see the elbow that got rammed into his ribs before she followed with the brush. He was barely able to duck before she tried to rake his eyes with the bristles. Jesus, she was vicious.

He managed to dodge her next blows, though he could tell she’d had some real training in self-defense. Good for her, and he let her think she had the upper hand. He took a couple of blows against his arms and one fury-born kick at his nuts.

That was her mistake. He saw the intention a mile away, so he was able to dodge and then grab her leg while it was up in the air. A quick lift and throw later, and she was flat on her back on the bed and he still had control of her leg. He threw it aside and landed right on her, dick once again pushing toward her core.

She was breathing heavy, but no less than him. Difference was, he wasn’t winded. He was just horny. She struggled like a hellcat beneath him, but everywhere she went, he had her pinned. And bit by bit, he opened her knees wider.

“You were saying,” he taunted while he adjusted his dick. He couldn’t penetrate her. Not like this and not without a condom no matter what his little brain was saying. So he moved himself higher. He rubbed his length along hers, her slickness driving him mad.

She gasped as he did it and for a moment her body went stock still. And when he rubbed himself again, harder against her, she released a soft moan.

Oh hell.

She liked it hard and fast. Trouble was, so did he. And when two people liked it wild, things got out of control.
He
would lose control.

“Stop moving, Alea,” he ground out.

He had to get off her.

She wrapped her legs around him and jerked him against her. Fireworks went off behind his eyes. She felt so good. So hot and wet and…

“Stop it, Alea. You don’t know what you’re risking.”

“You clean?”

“What?”

“Any diseases? Any infections or contaminations or anything like that?”

“What? No!”

She grinned as she ground herself against him. “Well, I’ve got an IUD in. And I’m very clean. Do you know what that means?”

He didn’t answer. He didn’t have enough blood in his brain to form words. Instead, he dropped his full weight down on her trying to keep her from moving. It didn’t work. She just pulsed her hips upwards while his brain shorted out.

“Stop it!” he gasped.

“It means we can play without a condom.”

Jesus, like he needed to hear that right now. With a sudden surge of anger, he reared back and flipped her over. It was a practiced move he performed as quickly and harshly as possible. She was on a bed, so he wasn’t going to hurt her. At least not much. She landed face down with an ummph.

Then he leaned in hard against her back. “This isn’t playtime, Alea. This is about how you dressed. This is about how sex can get rougher than you want.”

“Bullshit,” she shot back. Even though her words were half muffled by the blankets, he heard her clearly enough. “You talk all big and bad, but all I’ve seen so far has been pure vanilla.”

He grabbed her wrists and pulled them high above her head. She fought, but he was stronger and had better leverage. “I can do anything I want to you right now. And believe me—”

“Yadda yadda. You’d never hurt me.”

“Oh yes,” he said, meaning every word. “Yes, I will. Yes, I can.”

He held her there, his breath caught, his mind in turmoil. Every part of him wanted to fuck her. Not make love, not share affection, but fuck her every way he could think of. But this was Alea. He couldn’t do that to her. She was a teacher, for God’s sake. And he for damn sure—

She hit him.

While he’d been wrestling with what to do with her, she’d wiggled a wrist free and slammed her elbow back at his face. He’d managed to flinch at the last second. Thank God or she might have broken something. As it was, he’d be sporting a black eye for a week.

“Sonofa—”

She didn’t stop. She followed up that elbow with some really slick maneuvering. She was halfway to free when he started reacting. He slammed down on her torso, pinning her beneath him. It was his body weight, but given her slight size, it was enough. Then while she writhed and battled, he steadily got her under control. Legs with his legs, torso with his own. Jesus, she was wiry. He might have relented if she said “ow.” He might have eased up if she’d said one thing about stopping. Might have. At this point, his eye was throbbing so hard, he wasn’t sure. But she didn’t say anything at all. Not one damn word, and with her sharp tongue, that was a surprise.

Probably saving her energy for the next attack. Well fuck that.

He wrenched her arms behind her back. That stilled her enough for him to grab the nearby sheet. He didn’t have a knife on him, but his teeth would do. Holding her still while he was doing it was going to be the challenge, but he managed to grab where he wanted, bite down and jerk.

Her sheet tore with an audible rip.

She jerked at the sound. “Hey!”

“You can handle it?” He growled as he leaned closer to her ear. “Baby if you think some torn sheets is the worst that can happen then—umph.”

She jerked back with her head catching his jaw with a glancing blow hard enough to make his teeth rattle. He was slipping to let that blow through.

He stopped with the banter and focused instead on the sheets. She still fought, but hadn’t the skill or size to defeat him. Within ten minutes—ten sweaty, curse-filled minutes—he had her wrists tied behind her back and then leaned down to immobilize her ankles. He had to jerk her down the mattress so her legs hung down, but thanks to her cotton percale sheets and the metal bedframe, she was soon spread eagle and bent over.

Then he stood between her spread legs, grabbed hold of her hips and jerked her back and up. There she was, all pink and wet and pouty. He couldn’t stop himself from trailing a finger through her folds. From feeling the wetness as he pressed his thumb against her pulsing clit. And from slipping his fingers deep into her core. Fuck. He hadn’t taught her a lesson, at all.

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