Lord of Rage & Primal Instincts (32 page)

“You’re in luck. The Pirates are playing their arch rivals the Panthers on the court tonight. And you’re going as my date.”

She pretended to consider his offer, though she could hardly keep from dancing. “So, is that how boys usually ask for a girl’s time?”

Ian winked. “No. I have a lot more finesse now. Be ready in an hour.”

T
HE ROARING NOISE GRABBED
her attention first. From the moment Ian held open the glass door leading into the gymnasium, sounds of every kind assailed Ava.

The pounding rhythm from the drums echoed her footsteps, the beat only tempered by the tinny blast of the horns from the high-school band clad in orange T-shirts and jeans. Teenage girls lined the court wielding large ornamental balls of fluff. The bleachers were filled with cheering crowds clad in orange and black on one side, and patrons sporting the colors of mustard
and ketchup on the other. The battle lines were drawn. Tension permeated the scene.

Some version of this scenario played out in cultures around the world and across time. Turf wars or bragging rights, it was all the same. And she couldn’t be more excited to be there.

With a whistle and the sound of a buzzer, tall, lanky boys streamed onto the hardwood floor, their rubber athletic shoes squeaking.

“Here we go,” hollered Ian. He escorted her to an empty spot among those proudly wearing the orange and black. “Have you ever seen basketball?”

Ava nodded. “Running up and down. Ball in the net.”

Ian’s eyes narrowed, but his lips twisted. “Basketball is way more than just running up and down the court. It’s the teamwork of passing, the grace of running while dribbling. The excitement of the slam dunk. The refinement of shooting at half court.”

She shook her head as if she understood. She pointed to the stands, drawing his attention away from her. “Yeah, the boys with the word
pirate
spelled out on their bare chests in black-and-orange paint especially demonstrate the grace and refinement of the sport.”

Ian shot her a glance, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Now you’ve got it.”

Ian was back to flirting with her again. Her blood seemed to heat and thin all at the same time as it rushed through her body.

The buzzer sounded and the players circled their coach while the fluff-brandishing girls took to the court. Loud dance music, similar to what had been playing at Club Escape, blasted over the sound system, and the girls began to move in a coordinated tribal-like dance.

“What is that?” she asked as she pointed.

“Oh, that’s the pom squad, and those girls over by the corner are the cheerleaders. They motivate the crowd.”

Ava scanned the faces in the bleachers. Every boy had his gaze trained on the dancers now in the middle of the court. “I can see that.”

“The pom girls and cheerleaders inspire many fantasies for the adolescent boys. But then in high school, the soccer girls, the tennis girls, the ones who liked drama or sang in choir, they’ve all starred in one fantasy or another.”

“Yours?”

Ian shook his head. “Me? No. I always liked the smart girls with their nose in a book.”

Like she’d been. Yeah, now she knew he was flirting. Her pulse picked up its rhythm.

“However, if you did want to wear one of those short pleated shirts, pull your hair into a ponytail and take up some pom-poms, I wouldn’t be…turned off.”

She laughed, and quelled the urge to remind him that role-playing and dress up was quite popular in romantic love play in long-term pair bonds. No, she just laughed and had a good time in Ian’s funny teasing presence. She liked this side of him, got the feeling he didn’t share it with a lot of people. She was warmed by the thought.

“So, we’re at the game. We’re having fun. What’s next for the typical high-school kids out on a date?” she asked.

A mischievous glint touched his brown eyes. “Let me show you one of my best moves.”

Ian stretched, lifted his arms, then casually draped one arm around her shoulder. “Did you catch that?” he asked.

“That fake maneuver to touch me? Yes, I caught that.”
Was warmed by it, also.

“Glad to know I’ve still got it.”

He had something all right.

“Now, as a high-school girl, to show you like me, you—”

“I think I can handle that without instruction. I probably scoot up against you.” She slid along the smooth wood of the bleacher seat until their thighs touched. Her skin began to tingle. “Like this.”

“Exactly like that.”

Okay, this wasn’t so different from the things she’d demonstrated at the club. They had pure body alignment. Did he remember what she’d said about body positioning? How it would mirror a man and woman’s attunement in bed?

The warmth of his body heated her side. The scent of him filled her nose.

“What do you think?” he asked, his arm drawing her closer to him. Her head resting against his chest. This was a different kind of seduction. Slower. Less combative. She liked it more. That easing into another person.

“The rituals of high school are not so different from other courtship ones. The sponsored gatherings where grown-ups can keep a watchful eye. The couples who try to be close to each other.”

“Maybe there is something to that instinct stuff.”

She rolled her eyes. “Now what?”

“Well, throughout the evening I see just how low my hand can slip. That’s called copping a feel.”

Ava turned her head to see his fingers just at the swell of her breast. Her stomach knotted, probably how it would have if they were actually seventeen, in high school, and here in the gym together on a date rather than filling in a gap in her education. “Seeing no luck in any downward direction, what then?”

He sighed heavily, turning his attention back to the action on the court. “I try to actually concentrate on something other than you.”

Her whole body warmed at his words. Then her lips twisted in a secret smile. Her instincts were telling her she should make his goal to concentrate on something other than her very, very difficult.

A
FTER THE
P
IRATES SOLIDLY
trounced their rivals, Ian took her on a quick cruise down the famous 39th Street. They stopped at a drive-in for an order of Tater Tots and cherry Cokes.

Ava had been on dates before. An awkward coffee date between classes her freshman year in college. Enthusiastic, yet utterly impersonal dates with story-swapping colleagues. Blind dates set up by her parents with archaeologists on dig sites. None of those had felt right. She’d never felt the ease of simply being herself as she did with Ian.

As Ian drove back to Ava’s building, they’d talked and laughed and not a single word was about the book. The Bricktown crowd was light that evening, and they didn’t have to wait while pedestrians crossed in front of her garage.

Ian pushed the button for the gate to open, then drove the car inside the loading area redesigned to act as a garage. They were acting as if they were a real couple. She liked being with him like this.

Ava reached for her door handle, sad their evening was coming to an end. Not if she could help it.

“Don’t go yet,” he said, his hand on her shoulder.

He’d turned the car off, but left the music from the radio on. The lights from the dashboard glowed, but
didn’t fully illuminate his face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking right now.

His fingers curved around her shoulder. “Come closer,” he urged, his voice low and seductive. He pulled her as close to his body as the bucket seat would allow.

A small shiver rippled down her back and settled at the base of her spine. “This is called parking, and if I’m lucky, you’ll let me get to first base.”

“What’s first base?”

“It’s a baseball term.”

She smiled into the night. “Sports. Of course.”

“But on a woman, it’s this.”

Ava’s eyes drifted shut as Ian leaned forward. His lips gently brushed hers again. This kiss was different from anything they’d shared before. Slower and yet tentative and less controlled, as if they really were school kids and this was their first kiss.

Then the real Ian, the mature man of the world took over. His mouth teased and tantalized her lips. She sucked in her breath and held it as his mouth opened over hers.

She wound her arms around his neck and curled her fingers into the dark locks behind his ears. The blood zipped through her veins and she released her breath in a sigh.

Ian eased the pressure of his mouth and began to explore the seam of her lips with his tongue. Her breathing came quick and heavy. She opened her lips to him. He groaned and pulled her tighter.

It could have been hours or maybe only a few minutes, but Ian released her, resting his chin on her forehead. His breathing was hard and labored, matching hers.

“So, if that’s first base, I take it there is a second?”

“Yes,” he told her, his voice strained.

“You up to showing it to me?” she asked, her body on fire with need.

“Believe me when I say I’m up.” He swooped in, and gave her another kiss, then his hands slid to her breasts. “That’s another move to distract you,” he told her. He never dropped his hands.

Her nipples hardened, growing more sensitive against the lace of her bra. “Although I was never your traditional high schooler, I believe I can safely say that the girl wasn’t really fooled by your maneuvers.”

“And here I was working under this grand illusion all this time.” His lips touched hers again, his tongue doing delightful things to her mouth. “My favorite move at the time was the thumb circle.”

He circled her breast with his thumb, his rotations getting tighter and tighter until he reached the tip. “If I were feeling bold, I’d move to below her shirt.”

Her stomach quivered when she felt his fingertips caress her bare skin.

“I like your bold moves.”

“Then check this out,” he said. He leaned over and gently sucked her earlobe into his mouth. She felt his hands on her back, then the looseness of her bra.

She moaned as he fully cupped her breasts. “That was some move,” she told him.

He chuckled. “Ready for third?”

“There’s another base?” she asked, her body beginning to tremble in excitement.

“Oh, yeah.”

She almost whimpered as his hands left her breasts. Then she realized their destination. She slid her legs apart as his hands skimmed down her waist, over her
hips and to the place between her thighs. She cursed her tight pants for being in the way.

“What I wouldn’t have given to touch a girl like you here at seventeen.”

“Think of something,” she teased.

“I don’t know, but I’m feeling the exact same kind of desperation.”

She laughed, loved knowing she made him desperate. He rubbed her though her jeans, and suddenly
she
was desperate. His hand created a delicious friction, and she grew warm and wet and ready to take him inside her body.

His lips found hers again, and he kissed her with a hard, passion-filled caress. At the same time, his hand plunged into her jeans under her panties, his fingers discovering her clit.

She pulled her mouth away, moaning. “Ian.”

“More? Relax. I want to touch you all over.”

“What’s the goal of baseball?”

“To hit a home run,” he said, his lips lowering to her collarbone.

“What does it mean with a girl. With me?”

He stopped. Glanced at her. “To make love to you.”

Her body trembled. She was ready for a home run. “Ian, would you like to come up for some coffee?”

“I can’t tell you how much I’d love a cup of coffee.”

I
T WAS THE QUICKEST
he’d ever exited a car. Ian followed her upstairs and into her apartment, nothing and no one around them. They were the only two people in the world. The large front room was still scented by a subtle hint of oil.

Ian locked the door behind them, and trailed her into
the kitchen. “Should I actually pretend to make it?” she asked.

A smile briefly touched his lips as he practically stalked toward her. Ava sucked in a breath. The lessons had stopped. Now they were just man and woman. And primal instinct.

He grasped her head, then brought her mouth to his lips. This kiss was neither controlled nor deliberate, but hungry and ready for her.

This was no slow seduction. Only need and passion.

“You on top,” she said.

He almost growled. Ian bent, reaching under her knees and hauling her against his body. He marched into her bedroom, and carefully set her on the mattress. He moved to follow her, but she held out her hand.

“Wait,” she ordered. “Watch.”

She tugged her shirt up and over her head. She’d never bothered to rebutton her jeans after his ministrations in the car, so with a quick flick of her wrist, the zipper was down and her pants off.

She lay against her pillows wearing nothing but a sexy bra and panties. They matched. Black with little pink bows. His new favorite color.

She also hadn’t bothered to snap her bra into place after he showed her his moves in conjunction with second base, so the material slipped easily off her body.

She sat before him in only those skimpy little panties. He’d felt what secrets were hidden behind that tiny swatch of lace. She’d described imagining his fingers there, his cock learning those secrets of hers when he’d taught her about phone sex.

What he hadn’t done was see her. Her fingers hooked around the edge of her panties, and she slowly wiggled them down her thighs. She kicked them away, and
lay before him naked. Availing herself desirably, his arousal grew.

“Ava, here’s another conversation you probably need to learn. The condom discussion. Do I need to get them? I have some in my camera bag. But I want you to know that I always play it safe, and I get tested all the time because of my trips overseas. I’m clean.”

“Me, too.”

He swallowed. “What about pregnancy? You protected there?”

“You don’t want to use a condom, do you?”

“I can think of nothing else but the erotic feel of your skin against mine.”

“I’m protected there, as well. Don’t worry, I won’t get pregnant.”

He moved toward her, and she put her hand out again. “Wait. Not yet.”

He groaned in frustration, but then his eyes widened as she ran her hands down her body to caress her breasts, circle her navel, stroke her clit. His breathing turned shallow and his heart almost went through his ribs at the site of her fingers touching, drawing pleasure, from the very place he wanted to be.

“You like watching me touch myself, don’t you, Ian?”

He nodded. “Most men love to see a woman take pleasure in her body. It turns them on, makes them harder.”

His cock swelled against his jeans. Quickly he stripped, and her eyes cut his erection a glance. A feminine smile lifted her mouth.

“You see, for men, finding orgasm comes easily. Not so much for women. It takes a little time. Then women discovered the secret, their true power. It’s in their plea
sure. A man’s pleasure, your pleasure is actually heightened by mine.”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the vision of her fingers caressing between her legs.

“That’s nature’s way of making sure man took care of woman. And if a woman finds a man who’s all into taking that time, she knows she has a winner. Nice how it works that way. Look at me, Ian.”

His eyes traveled slowly up her body until he met her gaze.

“You’re going to make me feel good, aren’t you?” she asked, half question, half demand.

“Yes. So good.”

She smiled, rested against the pillows and spread her legs for him.

He took himself in hand, moved toward her and found where she’d opened to him. She moaned at the intimate thrust of his flesh sliding into hers.

She locked her legs behind his waist, her body a perfect fit for him. He began to thrust more deeply inside her. Ava started to move with him, against him. Her face tightened. Her muscles gripped him. He ground his hips against hers, finding her clit. That sent her over the edge.

She screamed, her climax hit hard. Her moans, her grip of his penis, it was all too much. He went right over the edge with her.

Soon their breathing returned to normal. The only other sound was the blowers from the heating unit keeping them warm. She lay in his arms, stroking his skin. Utterly content.

Her fingers found the knot of flesh below his right shoulder blade. The scar.

“I was shot.”

Ava gasped, her brows knitting together in concern. “Why?”

He shrugged. “Some people don’t like reporters.”

“So they shot you?”

There were worse things than being shot at, he’d seen plenty of it. Normally, he wouldn’t have a problem talking about it. But Ava, as he was quickly realizing, had spent an idealized youth jetting from one remote archaeological dig to another, then from the protected walls of university to on-the-job research among cultures that were actually getting along. Not his area of expertise.

Deep down—hell, not so deep down—Ava was an optimist. She easily found the good in anything. Five minutes of hearing his war stories could wipe that brightness of spirit right out.

He sat up, reaching for his shirt.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to the hotel. It’s late, I thought you might want your privacy.” Plus she hadn’t invited him to stay.

“Here’s a story you might find interesting. The early American Puritans thought one way to gauge if a couple would be happy together was partly based on whether or not they slept together well.”

“Sleep together or actually sleep together?”

She paused for a moment. “Oh, I get it.
Sleep together
is a euphemism for sex. No, in this case, sleeping together actually meant sleeping together. Of course, this was a culture where innocence was valued for both men and women, so a board was placed in the bed between the young man and woman. If they slept well next to each other, it was seen as a good sign.”

Ian scrubbed a hand down his face. “Ava, I’m too worn out to work on the book right now.”

She shook her head. “What I’m trying to say, and obviously not very well, is that you can stay the night here with me, and I promise—no board.”

N
ATURALLY
,
HE WOKE WITH
her breast in his hand. Was there a better way to sleep? Her soft backside pressed into the heaviness of his erection.

He wound a lazy path with his fingers along her skin, inviting her to wake up. He smoothed the hair back from her neck, watching the blond locks fan out against her pillow. He loved her hair. Loved seeing its softness spread out on the sheets, in his hand, across his body.

With her neck exposed, he ran his tongue along its slope, already knowing that particular spot was one of her favorites.

“Mmm,” she moaned and tilted her hips, pushing her soft rear against his hardened cock. She stilled. “Oh.”

“Yes, oh.”

He lowered his hand until he found her breast again. “I love your breasts. How they respond to me. How you taste.”

But as tempting as her breasts may be, he wanted the slick feel of her against his fingers. Ian lowered his hand, stopping as he felt the soft curls between her thighs.

Her hips jerked, forcing her harder against his penis. He fought the urge to sink into her. No, he wanted to touch her, savor her.

He found her clit, damp and so responsive to his touch. She gasped with just his slightest graze. His fingers lowered, and he smiled at what he found. “So warm, so wet. Are you ready for me, Ava?”

She nodded. “Yes.”

Ava made a small protesting noise when he moved
his hand away. His fingertips skimmed down her thigh and stopped just above her knee. He pulled her leg over his, getting her into position. His penis found her wet opening, and he slid home. Slowly. They both groaned at the wonderful sensation of her body enveloping his.

His entry complete, his hand sought her clit once more. He stroked her and her every muscle tensed. He thrust and fingered her, every part of his body working together to bring them both pleasure.

Her inner muscles began to quiver around him. He knew she was close. “I want to hear you,” he said.