Her Secret Thrill (16 page)

Jake didn't know what to say. He hadn't meant to open a can of worms. Just as he was sure she hadn't meant to, with her earlier probing.

So they both were each lost in their own thoughts, as the boat docked and people began disembarking.

There were photos displayed for purchase that had been taken during the cruise. He spied one of him and Natalie dancing. She was whirling and smiling brightly. He was looking at her, and there was no mistaking the expression on his face. She didn't stop to look, still lost in her thoughts. He escorted her out to the lot, then said, “Wait here. I'll be right back.”

“Jake?”

He just waved at her and jogged back up the line. He wanted that photo. He wanted that moment in time, a permanent recording of how he'd felt then. Because he had a sinking sensation that whatever had just taken place on board, in the end it hadn't helped his case at all.

N
ATALIE'S MIND
was a complete jumble. She couldn't get her thoughts to stay in order; they kept careening from the evening she'd just spent with Jake—the dancing, being held by him as they watched the sunset, how incredibly at peace she'd felt standing there like that—to an eruption of feelings about the life she'd dedicated herself to.
Was she happy?
And that was all complicated further by the reality of her current situation with her father, which made even thinking about the other two things almost impossible.

Jake had remained silent on the long stroll back through the Quarter. He'd held her hand as they walked, as lost in his thoughts as she was in hers. He'd seemed surprised by her questions earlier, about his work. If her head hadn't been pounding, she'd have laughed at the two of them. Here they were in one of the most decadent cities in the world and all they could think about were their respective careers.

How pathetic was that?

Her smile faded.
Yeah, Natalie, just how pathetic was that?
Had she given too much of her energy and
dedication to this big career she'd dreamed of? She'd always had some vague image that it would all be worth it in the long run. Dedication and sacrifice now, for the big payoff later. But what if the payoff was just more of what she was doing now?
Do you enjoy it?

She glanced up at Jake. What if the payoff wasn't what she thought it would be? Was she walking away from what would make her truly happy?

And what the hell difference did it make? She couldn't pick either one. Right now, her priority was her dad's health and general well-being. No matter what might be in store for her down the road, at the moment she didn't have a choice.

A sudden blast of music had her looking around in sudden awareness of where they were. At the other end of Bourbon. Their guest house was several blocks ahead. And between here and there, it looked like one huge party.

The street had been blocked off and it was swarming with people. Clubs and shops lined the street, and music literally thumped in the humid evening air. People were dancing, laughing and drinking on the sidewalks, in the streets, even up on the balconies above. Strands of shimmering Mardi Gras beads were sold in every store and looped around everyone's neck. More of them were being flung by young men and women on the balconies in hopes of seeing a bit of skin flashed below.

Natalie's eyes widened at the bewildering number of men and women who were more than willing to comply.

“Did she really just pull up her shirt?”

Jake grinned. Apparently the sight of bare flesh had pulled him from his thoughts, too. “She sure did.”

Natalie elbowed him, but she was laughing in disbelief.

“You want some beads?” he asked her.

“Don't even think about it.”

“Hey, I wasn't thinking about you.” His hands went to his belt, and there was an immediate roar of approval from the women—and some men—on the balcony directly above them.

“Sorry, ladies,” Natalie called out, placing her hand firmly over Jake's. “And gentlemen. The only show he's giving tonight is for me.”

There were general groans, but the throng quickly moved on to encourage their next hopeful. One of the girls did fling a few strands of beads, which Jake deftly caught in one hand.

“For your private show,” the young woman yelled down.

Jake just laughed and pulled Natalie onward through the throng. “So, it's a private show you're wanting, is it?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

She didn't know what had come over her back there—only that if he was going to take his pants off for anyone, it was going to be for her. At least, this one last night.

Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought, and she ruthlessly shoved it away, along with the rest of her angst. She wasn't going to waste the last night they had beating herself up over things she couldn't control.

 

J
AKE LED THE WAY
up the stairs of the guest house and barely managed to get the door closed behind them before pulling her into his arms. He felt her pulling away from him, and he didn't know what else to do. But this was what had started it all between them, and if this
was how they were going to finish, he intended to go out with a bang.

He pushed her toward the bed, lifting her up so her hips made it to the mattress. She went to pull him down on top of her, but he stepped back. “I believe someone said something about a private show?”

Her brows lifted in surprise, but that was quickly followed by a grin. “Why, yes, I do believe someone might have mentioned something about that, as I now recall.” She scooted up to the headboard and relaxed back on the pile of pillows. “Do we require music for this particular show?”

Jake had only been teasing her, but her playful mood was infectious.
What the hell?
He strode to the balcony doors and pushed them open. A cacophony floated through the door, jazz mixed with zydeco mixed with the blues and plain old rock and roll. He turned back to Natalie and actually had a momentary attack of modesty.

It was one thing to tease, it was another to willfully put on a display. Visions of the display Natalie had put on for him earlier today sprang vividly to mind. He supposed he owed her. And she'd seemed to actually enjoy it, once she got started. Maybe he'd feel the same.

She was laughing now.

“What?”

“Cat got your fly?”

“I'm…getting there.” He was not blushing. Not after all they'd done together.

She crawled to the side of the bed and motioned him over to her. “Do you need some help with that heavy buckle?”

“Ha-ha, very funny.”

She just grinned and gave him a provocative once-over. “I see. So you're all tease and no fulfillment, is that it?”

“I think you know better than that.”

“Well, then, show us the goods.” She slid off the beads he'd put around her neck and dangled them from one finger. “If you're good enough, I'll throw beads.”

“You're really enjoying this, aren't you.”

“You have no idea.”

He couldn't help it—he laughed then, and whatever inhibitions had come over him fled. Here, with her, was truly the one place he could bare all. And not just his flesh. Insecurities, doubts, worries, fears. All of them were safe with her. How in the hell was he supposed to let her walk out that door?

He resolutely shut that mental track down. A bang, he'd promised himself for them. And a bang he would deliver.

He lowered his head, then looked up at her from beneath his lashes, a slow grin spreading across his face. His hands went to his belt buckle and slowly slid the leather flap from the loop. His head came up as he ripped the belt through the loops, and he took immense gratification when her smile faltered and her throat worked.

Well, well. Maybe he could get used to this, after all.

He moved his hips, just a little. Then, when he noticed her eyes were riveted to that motion, he moved them some more. Slowly, sinuously. He unbuttoned his pants and slowly tugged the zipper down, making sure his fingers brushed over him as he did. The beads slowly
slid from her fingers, and he felt a surge of power that wasn't quite like anything he'd ever felt before.

He tugged his shirt from his pants and rotated his hips and body in full circle as he slid it up over his back and head, then turned to face her as he pulled it down and off his arms. He tossed it to her, and smiled when she snatched it out of the air. He swore he could feel her pulse pounding. Or maybe it was his. God knows, he was turned on.

He pushed off his shoes as his hands went back to the waistband of his pants. He ground his hips more deeply, moving closer to her as he did, then slid his pants over his hips and down his legs and stepped out of them, pushing off his socks at the same time, until he was left standing in front of her in only his briefs. Briefs whose limits were being sorely strained.

He moved closer to her, enjoying her visible swallow and the way she wet her lips. He pushed at the elastic band of his briefs as he moved right up in front of where she knelt at the side of the bed. She shifted, sitting with her legs dangling over the side. The height of the bed allowed him to move directly between her legs.

She groaned when he moved his hips so that he brushed against her. He slid his hands up and over his chest, reveling in the obvious pleasure she was taking from this.

“Take your clothes off for me, Natalie. I want you to feel me against you.”

Her pupils shot wide, and he did see the pulse leap in her throat as she scrambled back and undressed for him.

“Now, come sit on the side of the bed again. And bring those beads.”

She shuddered with pleasure, and he felt it ripple over him, as well. He only hoped he lasted long enough to do what he wanted to do. He moved between her legs again, rubbing against her until her hips began to move.

“Help me take these off.”

She lifted trembling hands to his hips and with torturous slowness, peeled his briefs from his body until he could kick them away. The feel of the humid air caressing him made him twitch with pleasure.

“I think I deserve some beads, don't you?”

She nodded, still squirming as he moved up tight between her legs again, brushing her but not entering her. It was all he could do not to push her back and crawl up and into her. His own pulse was thundering now.

He reached out and toyed with one of the two strands she'd put back around her neck, twirling the emerald-green beads between his fingers. He pushed harder against her as he rolled the strand first over one nipple, then the next.

She gasped, the moan deep in her throat, and he couldn't help it, he entered her, hard and swift. She screamed with it, immediately pushing her hips against him and tucking her legs around him to keep him from withdrawing. “No, don't. Dear God.”

He pushed back into her, hard, and groaned himself. “Hold me, then,” he said roughly, and his knees buckled when she squeezed tightly around him. “Dear God is right,” he managed to say.

Her head dropped back as she leaned back on her elbows and arched against him. Her position pushed her breasts up toward him, and he took full advantage, rolling the beads again and again across her nipples until
she was writhing and groaning, her eyes shut against the waves of pleasure he could feel rumbling through her.

He tugged on the beads then, until she sat up.

“Wrap your legs tighter around me.”

She did, and with one arm around her back, he hoisted them both onto the bed, at the same time moving deeper inside her. They both trembled, and he couldn't stop himself from pushing her back into the mattress and letting his body take what it so badly wanted. She met him thrust for thrust, and he could feel himself losing the battle of control. But he wasn't done yet, dammit.

It took all he had to move out of her and slide down her body. He pushed her back when she sat up in protest. “Grab the headboard.”

She looked down to where he'd slid between her legs.

“Trust me,” he said.

She smiled then, and his heart turned completely over. Where would he ever find such a true match for him? Would he ever trust anyone as he did her, or be trusted as fully as he was with her? Again he shoved that aside as she laid back down and tucked her hands beneath the base of the headboard.

He climbed up her body and slipped the strand of violet beads over her head, then slid them the length of her body. He slithered them around her breasts, dragging them over her nipples, then let their coolness pool on her belly before slowly, so slowly dragging them downward. Brushing one bead after another between her legs.

“Keep your hips still.”

“I can't,” she moaned.

“Try.”

She ground her teeth on a long, low growl. But that
was quickly followed by an even deeper growl of satisfaction when he lightly brushed the beads over her wet, waiting cleft. She screamed in her throat and she fought to keep her hips from thrashing, when he lowered his mouth over the beads and manipulated them directly on her swollen clitoris—until finally she lost the battle and screamed as she climaxed.

He let the beads slide to the bed as he climbed up her body, his tongue following the opposite path the beads had traveled moments before, until he was at her neck.

“Let go of the headboard and grab my hips, Natalie,” he murmured into her ear.

She all but clawed him to her, which was good because he felt every bit as primal.

When he entered her this time, there was no gentleness in either of them. She commanded every bit as much force as he could give. He was surprised the bed didn't splinter beneath the fury of their lovemaking. She climaxed again before he finally went screaming over the edge himself.

I love you, Natalie.

The words had been so loud, so clearly spoken in his mind, that, for a moment, he thought he'd said them out loud. In fact, he wasn't sure how he could have kept them locked in a moment longer. But he managed, somehow. If he ever said the words to her, it would not be in the heat of lovemaking, even lovemaking as powerful as what he discovered every time they were together.

No, he wanted her to hear the words clearly, to understand how deeply he felt them and would always feel them, even if she did walk away from him. He understood her dilemma and honestly had no idea, given his
current life and career, and her situation with family, how they'd make it work. Maybe she was right, and it would only lead to heartache and frustration. Maybe it was best to walk away when it was still perfect and beautiful. Maybe there would come a point in the future when they could meet again and make it work.

And maybe he would have to realize that he couldn't have everything he wanted, no matter how badly he wanted it.

He pulled her to him and kissed her as he stroked her hair. She nestled against him, against his still-pounding heart. He felt her relax, felt her fall asleep with the drumming of his heart beneath her ear. His eyes burned, and his heart squeezed. There had to be a way, dammit. He just had to find it.