Escape Magic (6 page)

Dear God, this is what Jana was talking
about. I could get used to this.
As his lips explored her neck,
finding the sensitive areas beneath her ears, she felt her normal
reserve giving way to a consuming desire to give in to his touch.
She began to work at the buttons of his shirt, impatient to feel
his skin against hers, but to her surprise, he captured her wrists
in one large hand and then she felt the silken scarf winding around
them, tightening just enough so she could feel it.

She looked at her hands, bound in front of
her this time. “Again?”

He laughed at her outraged tone. “You did
say if I tied a knot you didn’t want to get out of, you’d let me
do—“ he dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands trailing
down, teasing her breasts and catching hold of her slip to pull it
the rest of the way off “—anything…” He smiled up at her, his
expression devilish, and checked the knot. “What do you think?”

She raised an eyebrow. “I
could
get
out of this one. No offense, but it’s pretty amateurish.”

He kissed her belly button, his tongue
sliding over the tender skin just above her black lacy panties
teasingly, causing her to suck in her breath in surprise. He
laughed. “That’s not what I asked. I asked you if you
wanted
to get out of it?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you’re going to do while you’re
down there and how bad I want to participate in it.”

“Hmm.” He hooked a finger on the lace of her
panties, pulling them down just a bit, kissing the exposed skin.
“This.” His voice sounded muffled and her consciousness seemed to
have both shrunk and expanded, partly concentrated on the movement
of his lips and tongue over her skin, partly at one with the
universe, perfectly happy and content to let him kiss and caress
and—her eyes had been partly closed, but at the first contact of
his tongue between her thighs, they opened—“Oh, God!” She reached
for him with her still-bound hands, burying her fingers in his
thick hair.

“Oh yes. This.” He stroked and lapped and
she felt his hands on her thighs, his fingers sliding into her.
“You’re so wet, Baby.”

She moaned, leaning against the cold wall,
letting her hips move against his hand, pressure building inside
her. She felt him stand, his fingers still inside her, and her
hands slipped from his hair, coming to rest between them, still
bound, in almost a prayer position. His eyes fixed on her face with
a hungry expression. “Come for me, Baby. I want to see you.”

Too far gone to resist now, she did,
thrusting against his hand in total abandon as her orgasm shook
her. She heard him make a soft sound, and he caught her when she
might have fallen, unable to support herself with her hands bound.
She opened her eyes, half ashamed of her loss of control, but his
expression had become fevered with desire of his own, and she
surrendered herself again to his lips, willing to do anything to
give him the same pleasure he’d just given her.

****

He’d never seen anything more beautiful than
her face when her orgasm hit her. He wanted to see it again, almost
as much as he wanted to relieve the throbbing desire in his own
loins. He lifted her, still kissing her, and carried her down the
short hall to the bedroom. The privacy shades had not been drawn so
the room was well lit by the neon of the strip. He laid her on the
bed, realizing only then that she’d undone the knot on the scarf,
leaving it trailing from one wrist.

“So you’ve decided to participate?” He stood
at the foot of the bed looking at her lovely body as he unbuttoned
his shirt and tossed it away.

She laughed, coming toward him on all fours.
“Oh yes.” Her hands reached for his belt buckle and she stood up on
her knees, lips teasing his and moving to his neck, then lower, her
tongue flicking over his left nipple and causing shivers of
goosebumps to course through him, belying the white heat that built
in his core. He reached for her, wanting nothing more than to
discard his remaining clothing and cover her body with his, but
stopped when he found his hands were bound by the same silk scarf
he’d used on her.

“Dammit, Lydia.” He couldn’t decide whether
to be irritated or aroused. His confused feelings mounted when she
laughed at him, grasping his bound hands and pulling him onto the
bed with her.

“My turn.” She straddled him, undoing his
belt and pants with nimble fingers and sliding down his body as she
helped him kick them off.

“I’m at a distinct disadvantage since you’re
the escape artist.” He breathed in deeply.

She paused in trailing kisses over his
thighs. Everything about her teased him. Her very breath was a
caress on his erection. He could feel her smile against his skin, a
red-hot curve of mischief that maddened him. She planted one final
kiss on his right thigh and raised herself enough to look him in
the eye. “It’s a simple knot, and it’s not very tight. You should
be able to get it loose…if you
want
to.”

He gasped in surprised gratification when
she took him into her mouth, her lips and tongue and even teeth
such capable instruments of immeasurable pleasure he nearly forgot
everything else. But the desire to see her face during orgasm again
resurfaced as he felt himself nearing the edge. He began to work
the knot she’d tied, cursing himself for not staying in practice.
Escape was a part of so many of Andre’s illusions, and Tony had
picked up enough so he knew he
could
untie the knot. He just
wasn’t sure he could get it undone before she undid him.

Just when he thought for certain he’d never
manage it in time, he felt it part and he worked his way free,
grasping her by the shoulders and rolling them over so he could see
her face against the pillows. Her eyes sparkled at him like wicked
emeralds. “So you’ve decided to participate?”

His breath came in short gasps and he
couldn’t coordinate his tongue enough to form words. Instead, he
positioned himself, barely managing to fumble a condom on before he
slid into her with a sweet relief he couldn’t ever remember having
experienced.
Dammit, Lydia, what have you done to me?

****

She’d just begun to hope she hadn’t pushed
him too far, but the expression on his face when he entered her
assured her she hadn’t. An unexpected feeling of tender
protectiveness accompanied her relief and she slid her arms around
his neck, feeling him tremble at her touch. She stroked his hair,
kissed his face, caressed his back as he held still. She reveled in
the sense of power she had, loving the strong feel of his body. She
knew it wouldn’t take long to reach another climax, but she didn’t
want to push him.

Slowly he began to move again, gently at
first, as if afraid of breaking some precious connection between
them. He supported himself on his forearms, kissing her in the
tempo of his thrusts, bringing her closer and closer to the brink
of another pleasurable spiral. She clung to him, but he drew away,
whispering, “You’re so beautiful when you come. I want to see it
again.”

The words were all she needed and she gasped
as another orgasm seized her with unexpected force. Her climax
spurred his and she felt his timing change, becoming more urgent,
propelling them both forward until he came and collapsed, pulling
her into his arms as he rolled onto his side.

Very gradually her heartbeat slowed, her
breath became less labored, and she felt herself relax into his
embrace, breathing his scent, enjoying the embrace, for as long as
it lasted. It saddened her a little to think it would end. The
perfection of those moments with him outshone any other time she
had ever spent with a man. He really was good at this.

He kissed her forehead. “You’re
amazing.”

She laughed at his echoing of her thoughts.
“Thanks, you too.”

“I really mean it.” He sighed. “I guess I
always knew you were an incredible girl, but
that
…” His
voice trailed off.

Suddenly uncomfortable with his tone, she
sat up. “Yeah, well. You know, everybody has a night every now and
then. It’ll be something to look back on.”

“Look back on.” He repeated her words in an
expressionless tone. “Yeah, I guess.” He frowned.

“Oh, come on, Tony. You’re the love ‘em and
leave ‘em type. We both knew that. I knew it going into this. If I
hadn’t…” She stopped herself, uncertain if she should go on.

“If you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have agreed to
it.” He spoke the words with certainty. She glanced over her
shoulder and saw the little frown. “That’s right, isn’t it?”

“I’m not looking for a relationship,
Tony.”

“I wasn’t either.”

She caught the past tense and raised her
eyebrows. He sat next to her, and she tried not to admire the way
the light limned the perfect lines of his body.

“I’ve always cared about you. I’m not sure I
knew how much. Back when I knew you before I wasn’t much of a man.”
He cast her a half questioning, half shamed glance. “In fact, if
I’d been a better man back then, maybe you wouldn’t be so sure of
who I am now.”

She didn’t want to think about the regret
behind his words. Maybe he’d believed she’d betrayed his brother,
maybe he’d just felt obliged to go along with Andre’s outrage
because he’d been so dependent on the security Andre offered him
while he’d been consumed by his addiction. Not that it mattered any
more. Whatever was in their past, this night needed to join it. She
groaned and lay back on the mattress, pulling the sheet around her.
“Did I ever tell you why I got into escapology?”

“I always figured it was because you didn’t
want anyone to be able to tie you down.” He lay next to her but
didn’t touch her.

She rolled her head to the side and looked
at him. “I saw it happen. My mom wanted to be an actress. She was
really beautiful and talented. Maybe she really could have made it.
Instead, she got pregnant, got married, and I spent my childhood
watching her wither and die. Like something inside her just faded
away. I always knew she wanted to escape, and I decided to make
sure that no matter what I
would
be able to.”

“You aren’t your mother. You’re an
accomplished, talented woman whose career is finally getting the
recognition it deserves. Nothing can hold you back now.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing
but love.” She reached up and brushed her hand across his cheek. “I
could love you. I know it. But that wasn’t what I was looking for
right now. I can’t afford to be like Mariella, at the peak of my
career and taking time off to have children. ”

He turned his head and kissed her palm
before she could pull it away, and when he looked back at her, his
eyes smoldered. “When I was in rehab, I kept hearing the counselors
talking about not replacing one addiction with another. They were
referring to replacing alcohol with drugs or gambling with smoking,
but I saw it happen in other ways. My roommate, a 20-year
alcoholic, got addicted to exercise. He started running and, hell,
I don’t know if he’ll ever stop. One 5k after another. One girl
who’d been addicted to heroin had a baby and all of sudden it was
all mommy all the time. She was the best mother I ever saw, but it
was because she was addicted to it. A great thing, a healthy
addiction.”

The fire in his eyes darkened. “I tried
exercise. It helps. Sex, too. I like having sex. But I’m not
addicted to it. I know what addiction feels like. Intimately.” The
way he said it gave her a glimpse into the strength it took for him
to resist his daily temptations. Impulsively, she reached for his
hand, and he closed his fingers around hers. “
You
I could
get addicted to, and I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t.”

She wasn’t sure if she should be relieved or
not. Did he mean he
wasn’t
in love with her? And was she
sure that was what she wanted? In the middle of a confused rush of
feelings, he rolled over and pulled her against him. “That doesn’t
mean I’m letting you go anywhere tonight.”

“No?” Her heart skipped a beat and she let
herself relax against him, feeling delightfully lazy. The idea of
falling asleep in his arms appealed to her, as did the possibility
of waking and making love again.
Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad
idea, this falling in love thing.

****

The darkness closed in, sweltering, black
and smothering…she heard her name and a crash but part of her knew
she’d never get away now. The blackness held her and she huddled in
it, afraid to speak because if she did it might sneak into her
mouth and down her throat before she could scream…

Lydia jerked upright, the covers tugged back
by a heavy body. She yanked away, pulling the sheets with her,
uncertain for a moment where she was. Memory returned and she took
a deep breath, forcing herself to let go of the dream, and opened
her eyes to see Tony sitting up in bed. His bed. She’d spent the
night with him. She lay down facing away from him, willing her
racing heart to slow, her breath to stop coming in gasps.

“Sorry. Nightmare.”

He slid his arms around her and kissed her
shoulder. “Tell me about it.”

“Don’t.”

He stilled behind her. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t act like you really want to know
about my nightmare. It doesn’t affect us. Tonight.”

He remained silent for several long minutes,
but his arms didn’t loosen their grasp on her. Finally, he said
softly, “What are you trying to forget?”

A shudder of surprise and a little horror
that he could see her so well passed through her. “What makes you
think I’m trying to forget something?”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?” She turned to face him, shoving her
tangled red mane out of her face. “Don’t act like this was more
than it was, Tony.”

“What was it, then?” He removed one hand
from his hold on her and brushed her hair back, kissing her softly.
“Don’t leave.”