Lord of Rage & Primal Instincts (31 page)

Instead, she put even more effort into her ministrations to Ian’s body. She rode her hand up and down his shaft, using her thumb to tease the head of him.

With a groan that tore from somewhere deep inside him, Ian came.

She couldn’t wait to make him do it again.

T
HE LIGHT ABOVE THE BREAKFAST
bar in Miriam’s apartment flashed off and on. “Oh, I can’t believe it. I’ve called that in. The super told me he’d fixed it.”

Jeremy looked above his head. “It’s probably just a loose connection. I’ll take a look at it after breakfast.”

She flashed him a skeptical look. “Don’t worry about it. I hire someone to take care of things like that.”

He glanced upward again. “Really, I could check that in a minute.”

“There you go again, trying to save me. Honestly, the last thing I want you doing is wasting your time here with me fixing stuff.”

His neck reddened. How she loved that about him. It was as if he was slightly embarrassed by their reaction to one another.

“When you put it like that…” Jeremy finished off the omelet Miriam had made him, and set the plate aside. “This was great. Thanks.”

Miriam smiled, pleased she’d satisfied one of his hungers. “Glad you enjoyed them. Scrambling eggs is about the only domestic thing I do.”

He stood, lifting his plate off the counter. “In that case, I wash and dry. You can sit down.”

Wash and dry? By hand? What kind of person did he think she was? Miriam waved his comment away. “Just stack it in the sink. I have someone that comes in
every morning to tidy up and prepare a meal for dinner. Takeout gets old.”

“You’re missing out on one of life’s greatest times between two people.” His blue eyes grew darker. “Outside of bed.”

“Takeout?”

Jeremy shook his head. “Dishwashing. My dad insists it’s the key to a happy marriage.”

Another knock against the institution. Besides, Miriam couldn’t fathom for a moment how dishwashing could be in any way joyful. Housework equaled drudgery in her mind.

“I can see from your face you’re skeptical. Every night after dinner, my dad would wash and my mom would dry. They’d talk about their day, the meal, whatever. I could usually hear laughter coming from the kitchen.”

Miriam squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable with where this conversation was leading. The illusion of martial bliss. “Couldn’t they do other things together?”

“I don’t think it’s the same. Last year, I bought them a dishwasher for their anniversary. I think mom uses it during the day or on holidays, but for the most part, it’s them together at night.”

Her eyes widened. What was wrong with these people? “I still don’t get it.”

“I didn’t, either. My father told me it’s one of those tasks that your body can do on autopilot. So you talk. You’re close, and you stand side by side. The way a relationship should be.”

This kind of reminded her of the doc’s writing that Ian had been sending to her via email. About how generations of men and women spent time together quietly, doing little more than just being together. How going
through life’s journey seemed somehow easier when completed with someone you love.

Miriam smiled at him, but for some reason felt melancholy. Wow, happy parents in a happy marriage. Who knew they still existed? Certainly none of her friends came from any intact home life.

She was struck, and not for the first time, by how different she and Jeremy really were from each other. Oh, they connected in bed on a level that was beyond believing, but out of bed?

They were so very different, and not only the age thing. She’d graduated from Wharton, ran a company. Jeremy didn’t even have a job, and didn’t show much of an inclination to search for one, either.

He believed in domestic bliss.

Her business published articles on flings and long-distance relationships. He—

The telephone interrupted her thoughts. Jeremy handed her the portable phone, his fingers caressing her hand. She decided right there and then she’d get rid of whoever was on the other end of the line. Fast. “Hello.”

“So, tell me immediately why you are still not at work.” It was Jenna, Miriam’s best friend. Best friend and she still hadn’t told her about Jeremy. Not about the weekend in Oklahoma, and not about now, either.

“I was due a break.” And Jeremy was the long, tall vacation she’d needed. She watched him as he straightened up in the kitchen, running a damp paper towel over the counters she’d left covered in crumbs.

She could watch him unobserved. Jeremy looked fantastic this morning, shirtless and with his dark hair mussed. A flutter of desire began to unwind inside her. Not a bad way to start her morning.

“I’m coming over there.”

Miriam whirled away from the sight of Jeremy in her kitchen, trying not to panic. “No, you can’t. I mean—”

“Miriam Cole, what is going on over there? Are you sick? Running away from the law? Have a naked man tucked away folding your towels?”

Miriam gasped. Close. Almost naked and cleaning her kitchen.

“You naughty girl, you have someone there right now.”

“No,” she insisted. In full panic mode.

Jenna snorted. “Okay, however you want to play it. I expect all the juicy details later. Hey, bring him along tonight.”

Oh, damn. This was the night of her monthly book club meeting. It was
Pride and Prejudice,
and at her suggestion. She could talk about that book for hours. And despite that it provided not one, but two romantic endings, sometimes she yearned for a time in her life when she believed in love.

Yes, she could talk about that book for hours, but she’d rather be with Jeremy. And it didn’t matter what they were doing, in bed, out of bed, he beat out Jane Austen.

Her heart raced. She was getting in deeper than she’d thought.
Remember the article.
The odds of a long-distance relationship working weren’t high. That’s when she realized she’d secretly been hoping…what? That they could have something that lasted? The idea didn’t make sense.

“I’m going to have to cancel out on you tonight,” Miriam said slowly, not happy with the way her heart was turning against her logic.

Jenna made a sound. “I understand. Jane Austen not his scene? Bring him around later. I’m making fondue.”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Wow. That means no, and that you’re having great sex. Well, at least one of us is. Enjoy it, Mir.”

Miriam replaced the receiver in the charger and took a deep breath. What was she doing? Why was she breaking long-standing commitments for a short-term love affair?

For just one second, she’d almost taken Jenna up on her offer to bring Jeremy over. And then it hit her…how could she take Jeremy? He had little enough in common with her, let alone her friends. He was more than fifteen years younger than any of them.

Which raised the question again, just what was she doing? They’d avoided any real discussion of where their relationship was going. Correction, she’d sidestepped Jeremy’s every attempt to bring it up.

He’d said earlier he was game for wherever she saw it headed, and she was holding him to that. But the nagging fact remained, there was some real intimacy here between them, and she didn’t want to examine their relationship too deeply.

She dropped her head into her palms.

Strong hands gently rested on her shoulders. “Everything okay?” Jeremy asked.

She nodded, not turning around. “Sure.”
I’m just starting to act really irrationally around you. Because of you.

He tenderly spun her to face him. “I couldn’t help overhearing. You know, you don’t have to change your routine just because I’m here. I know you have a life. I can head back to my hotel, and—”

Her lips stopped his words. It took him a moment
to respond, her actions probably shocked him. Then he hauled her up tight against his chest and deepened the kiss with his tongue.

She pulled back to suck in a breath. “Make love to me, Jeremy.”

I
AN RINSED OFF ALL
the oil from his body in Ava’s shower. He’d invited her in, but she’d shaken her head and given him a wink. That wink told him all he needed to know. Later. They’d be together later. Why did she want to wait?

He knew it’d be sensational. And that loincloth would play a large role in it. After last night’s episode on the phone, he’d tried to approach the work-time hours with at least some amount of detachment.

Ava had blown that intention right out of the water.

Hell, he even grew hard thinking about sex with Ava, and he’d only just come by her hand. She had something with that sending-off stuff. Right now, he could battle anything. Conquer anything. Maybe even write that book.

If rolling around in the oil with Ava wasn’t inspirational, he didn’t know what was.

He found her snuffing out the candles, the smoke rising above her head. She hadn’t yet realized he’d returned, so he stepped back and did what any good reporter did.

He observed.

Her skin still glistened with the oil. He almost hated the idea of Ava stepping below the spray of the water and rinsing all of that away. She’d put her beaded top back on, and was now stuffing the used bags into the trash can. She was grace and beauty, and any man of any era would want her for his own.

Except him.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, buddy. You don’t want her for your own.

Ava looked up and smiled, surprised to see him.

“Shower’s free,” he said.

As Ian waited for her, he brainstormed a few possible titles, but gladly put away his pad and pen when he heard her return. He searched her freshly scrubbed face with his gaze. Ava was uncomplicated. Beautiful. No hang-ups.

Who didn’t have hang-ups?

“What kind of childhood did you have?” he asked.

“I’ll show you.” She pivoted on her bare feet and ambled to one of several large bookcases. Her hips rolling slightly as she walked.

He crossed the room to join her at the bookcase. She pulled a photo album from the shelf and flipped through pages until she found a picture of two children with a man and woman in pith hats carrying picks.

“Those are my parents.”

“The famous archaeologists.”

“The very ones.”

“I’m guessing the little blonde in pigtails is you.”

She nodded. “And that’s my little brother, Thad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Thad?”

“Short for Thaddeus. It means praise, and believe me, he’s never let us forget it. Our parents named us from the ancient Greek lands where they concentrated their studies.”

“And Ava?”

“Like a bird.”

His eyes narrowed, as if he were examining her more closely. “I don’t think I see that.”

She laughed. “It’s more in the vein of soaring to greatness.”

He smiled. “Ah, I see. How old were you in this picture?”

“Six. That’s a site right outside of Athens. Up until I was seven, I didn’t know anyplace else but an archaeological dig. The summer I turned twelve, I came here, to Oklahoma, to visit my grandma.”

“She teach you how to knit? That kind of thing?”

Ava made a snorting sound. “Hardly. Grandma was an actress. In fact, I think an old lover must have left her this place. No, we’d have long drawn-out tea parties, dress up in feather boas and put on elaborate shows.”

Ian laughed, imagining the girl she’d been. Then the idea of the woman she was now, prancing in front of him wearing nothing but a boa, chased away everything else.

If it were in the name of research, she’d do it. “Ever think you’re still doing pretty much the same thing?”

Now it was Ava’s turn to laugh. “You’re right. Performing all these rituals is a lot like acting. She must have passed down those interests along with her DNA.”

“So, you mentioned a lover.”

“Just one of many. She was married four times.”

Ian jerked. The lady had his mother beat out by one. But give Janice Cole time.

“Quite scandalous in the 1950s I assure you. Actually, what were my parents thinking? She was no kind of a role model for marital bliss.”

Silence stretched between them.

“I was just kidding. She was a great role model. Every one of the men in her life left with a smile.”

“I can imagine,” Ian said, mentally shrugging off the gloomy thoughts his mother always provoked. “And
yet your parents managed to make everything work out long-term.”

“Yes, they did. And they were determined to make life a family affair. Despite their obvious displeasure with my chosen career, my parents are wonderful, supportive, but sometimes I wonder, especially after spending so much time with you…”

“Wonder about what?” He’d be happy to indulge her no matter what she had questions about.

She casually lifted a shoulder, but he wasn’t fooled. Whatever she planned to reveal was important to her. “On what I may have missed. I want this book to speak to the women of today, but if I’m missing some of those universal experiences, how can we relate? My twenty-first-century dating skills are pretty much worthless. I didn’t even know what phone sex was. And sometimes I don’t understand the slang you use. We’re contemporaries. We’re supposed to connect.”

“I’d say we connect.”

Ava gave him a small shove. “Ian.”

“And, it’s true, you’re far from normal.”

She stood to her full height of five foot two. “Now wait a minute, I have done a normal thing or two—”

But Ian gave her a quizzical look. “Never went to a prom. Never cruised. Never hung out at the food court.”

“Well—”

“How about a football game? Cheered your team in the rain even though they were losing, because your friends were out there getting their asses handed to them?”

Ava shook her head, closing the picture album and returning it to the bookcase.

“Stayed up past your curfew and gotten grounded?”

Ava folded her arms in front of her chest.

Ian made a tsking sound, his fingers stroking her cheek. “Like I said, you’ve missed so much.” He met her gaze, then snapped his fingers. “Let’s make a deal. By day we work on the book, by night, I’ll work on expanding your education.”

“Didn’t we do that at Club Escape?”

“We’re going back to the beginning. First-date kind of stuff. Ava, I’m taking you to high school. Hang on.”

In three long strides, Ian was at his laptop and punching something into a search engine.

Then he turned and smiled at her, a smile filled with the kind of excitement that made her yearn to be part of whatever he suggested. She almost gasped. Like he was about to steal her away on an adventure she couldn’t wait to take.