Savior (An Impossible Novel) (11 page)

“Not tonight, Rose,” he said gently.  I couldn’t help pouting, and he traced the outline of my lips with the pad of his thumb.  His smile was a bit regretful.  “You’re awfully cute when you pout, you know,” he informed me.  “But I won’t take advantage of you when you’re drunk.”

I let out an annoyed huff.  “
I’m
trying to take advantage of
you.
”

He laughed and tapped his finger against my nose.  “I’m not that easy.  But believe me, I would love to strip you and fuck you senseless.  Unfortunately, that just wouldn’t be right given your current state.”

“Tease,” I accused.  “Why do you have to be so goddamn decent?”

He laughed again, and the way his warm breath fanned across my face sent my desire spiking even higher.  His lips were so close to mine…

“How about we make a deal?”  He proposed.  “You let me take you out to dinner tomorrow, and afterward I will do some decidedly indecent things to you.”  His eyes glinted with a mixture of lust and amusement.  He knew I would agree.  I had been determined to keep my distance from him emotionally, but it seemed he had other ideas.  And damn it if I didn’t find his cocky determination sexy as hell.

“Fine,” I agreed, throwing up my hands in defeat.  I fixed him with a hard stare.  “But you had better hold up your end of the bargain.”

His triumphant grin was hard-edged and hungry.  “Don’t worry.  I will.  I’ve been doing some very interesting research, and I’ve found a few things I want to try.”  Leaving that statement hanging in the air, the bastard winked at me.

Oh, I had definitely made a mistake in drawing out his dominant side.  Was it possible to die of sexual frustration?  I was pretty sure I was about to explode.

“Tease,” I accused again, more hotly this time.

“You’re adorable when you pout like that,” he informed me, clearly entertained by my frustration.  Gripping my chin between his thumb and forefinger, he brushed a feather-light kiss across my cheek before whispering in my ear.
“Besides, I know you like being teased.”

I shuddered as
another wave of lust washed through me.  “You’re a bastard, you know that?”  I asked him shakily.

He chuckled.  “I seem to recall being accused of being too
goddamn decent
a moment ago.”

“I rescind that statement.”  The way my voice wavered ruined my attempt to sound reproachful.

“And you need to learn to watch your language,” he continued on over me as though I hadn’t spoken.  “We can work on that.”

The sensual threat elicited an audible moan from deep within me.  “Fuck, Clayton.  Please, just touch me already.”

He was smirking at me.  “Begging and more cursing?  You’re devious, aren’t you?  Unfortunately for you, I came across that in my research.  It’s called ‘topping from the bottom,’ isn’t it?  Well, I’m not falling for it, babe.  I don’t think I’ve told you this, but I played football in college.  It made me very competitive.  You should have listened to Sharon; I can be very
tenacious
when I want to win.  And I don’t intend to lose this game.  Besides, I don’t think you want me to.”  His expression was downright evil.  But it thrilled me far more than it pissed me off.  I had been right: Clayton wasn’t going to let me get away with anything.  The complete loss of control was terrifying in the most delicious way.  The sensation was far headier than what I had felt when I had so easily manipulated Jeff and Sam.

“So you are fully aware that you’re a bastard, then,” I retorted weakly.

He tapped my nose again.  “I’m keeping a running tally of those insults, you know.  By all means, please continue with your verbal abuse.”  He cocked his head at me.  “It will be interesting to see whether or not you enjoy the consequences.”

My pulse quickened and I g
asped.  “I thought you said you’d never done anything like this before.”

He shrugged.  “I told you: I’m a fast learner.
And when I find something I want, I go for it.”  The look he shot me was heated and full of wicked promises.  “I want
you,
Rose.  I’ve never experienced anything like what we have, and I want more of it.”

What we have?

Yep, this was definitely about more than just fucking.

Clayton shook himself slightly and took a deep breath before drawing away from me reluctantly.  I frowned when he turned his back on me.

“Get dressed for bed,” he ordered.

“Why the sudden prudishness?”
  I taunted.

He didn’t glance back at me.  “That might not have been a curse word, but I’m adding it to the tally,” he informed me coolly.  “And I’m not going to watch you because I don’t want my balls to ache even more than they do already.”

You want to tease me? 
I thought wickedly. 
Two can play at that game, Mr. Big Bad Dom.

I took my time stripping off my dress and peeling off my underwear.  I decided to leave my strappy high heels on.  Propping myself back on my
elbows, I arched my back and spread my legs.

“Okay, all done.”

When he turned to face me, Clayton’s mouth dropped open slightly, and I shot him a devilish grin.  Then his teeth snapped together and his jaw clenched.  The glare he fixed on me promised retribution.  “I guess you do like a little pain, seeing as you’re practically begging me to punish you,” he ground out.  “You’re a devious little minx, beautiful.  But that’s something else we can work on.  Tomorrow.”

Punish. 
When I had first met Clayton, I hadn’t been sure if he was capable of such a thing.  My nipples tightened to a painful degree at the prospect.

“Get dressed. 
Now.”  His forbidding glare remained fixed on me as he crossed his arms over his chest.  His stance was imposing, intimidating.  I obeyed with alacrity, retrieving my PJs from under my pillow and pulling them on hastily.  My hands shook slightly from the adrenaline that spiked through me.

Once I was covered, a pleased, twisted smile replaced his reproving expression.  He applied gentle pressure to my shoulders, pushing me down onto the mattress.  The feeling of being cared for in this way was utterly foreign to me; no one had ever tucked me into bed.  Clayton planted a swift, sweet kiss on my forehead and then drew away from me.  I reached for him quickly, catching his hand in mine.

“Don’t go,” I said pleadingly.  My desperation to keep him close was overwhelming.  I didn’t want to be alone.  Clayton’s presence provided a far greater release than any alcohol or drugs.

“I’ve told you, Rose,” he said gently.  “I won’t do that.  Not tonight.”

I gripped him more tightly.  “I don’t want sex.  Well, I do, but we don’t have to do that.  I just…  Stay with me.  Please.”

His eyes softened, and he stroked his fingers across my cheek tenderly.  “No
w that’s a brand of begging I can’t resist.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

I couldn’t help watching him hungrily as he undressed.  Even though I had done my best to memorize every contour of his gorgeous body, my mind hadn’t been able to fully capture his perfection.  The sound of his belt slithering against the material of his slacks as he pulled it off made me shiver.  It reminded me of the punishment he had promised.  He was right: I did like a little pain.  I wasn’t a masochist, but I found a taste of it provided a sweet release; it commanded my full attention, denying my mind the freedom to wander.  My tongue darted out to wet my lips in anticipation.  Tomorrow night couldn’t come soon enough.  Clayton’s admission that he was hurting from denial as well was a small comfort.

I had hoped
he would strip completely, but he kept his boxers on.  That was probably best for both of us, really.  I didn’t think I could withstand any more sexual torment.  My twin bed was almost too small for us to both fit on it, but I didn’t mind.  It just meant that Clayton had to hold me closer.  He settled his hard body behind mine, pulling me back against his chest.  I sighed when I felt his erection against my ass.  But there was nothing for it; I knew Clayton wouldn’t be moved, and trying to tempt him further would only land me in more trouble.

Despite the intensity of my unfulfilled lust, alcohol, exhaustion, and Clayton’s comforting embrace caused me to drop off to sleep almost instantly.

“Get the fuck off my sister!”  Greg’s furious roar jerked me awake.  The weak light of early dawn was only just slanting through the windows, but I could clearly make out my brother’s livid expression.  “I knew you liked to whore around, Rose, but Jesus!  You fucked this prick?  In
our
apartment?!”

My mouth dropped open as my mind struggled to process the fact that the cruel, cutting words were coming from my baby brother’s lips.  I was used to hearing similar insults from my mom, but not him. 
Never him.

Clayton was on his feet in an instant, his fluid, assured movements recalling the lunge of a predatory beast.  Greg’s back was against the wall, Clayton’s hand fisted in his shirt as he pinned him in place.  “I’ve warned you about talking to her that way.”
He used the same cool tone he had turned on the drunken boys the night before.  It was undeniably chilling.  “I’m going to let you off this time because it
was
inappropriate for me to stay here.  But know that next time I will break your arm.  No matter what Rose wants.  You don’t deserve her protection.  Do you understand me?”

Greg looked pissed, but a shadow of fear flitted across his face.  He remembered how easily Clayton had taken him down before.  “Yes,” he hissed angrily.  “But I don’t want to see you in my apartment again.”

Clayton pinned him with a hard stare for a long moment, allowing Greg’s nervous tension to grow.  “You have the right to request that,” he said finally.  “But if I hear that you’re mistreating her, you’ll find me breathing down your neck wherever you go.”

He released Greg abruptly, and my brother sagged back against the wall.  Clayton’s threat was clearly going to be taken seriously.

To my dismay, Clayton began pulling on his slacks.

“You’re leaving?”  I asked, disappointment lacing my tone.

His eyes softened when they met mine.  “I’ve agreed to honor your brother’s request.”  He pulled on his suit jacket, looking as sharp as ever.  The only sign of untidiness was his mussed hair, and that only made him look sexier.

He leaned down into me, his hand closing firmly around the nape of my neck as he crushed his lips to mine.  His tongue plundered my mouth, a physical demonstration of his possession of my body.  When he finally pulled away, I was gasping for breath.

“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he said firmly, shooting Greg a pointed glance as he spoke.  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my brother stiffen angrily, but I didn’t care.  Clayton’s entrancing eyes commanded my attention.

“Okay,” I breathed.

With that, he strode out of my apartment.  I fought to ignore the sense of loss that filled me when the door closed behind him.  I also ignored Greg’s furious glare, schooling my expression to nonchalance as I got ready for work.  Despite my years of practice, pretending to be unruffled was more difficult than it usually was.  Clayton’s effect on me had been sudden and intense.  And even though it was a blessed release to be in his physical presence, he was causing fissures to appear in my carefree façade that had always been my protective armor.

I suddenly realized that the game we were playing was very dangerous.  And I was certain that losing would prove to be just as painful as it would be blissful.  Clayton had accused me of behavin
g recklessly, but it seemed letting him into my life was the most reckless thing I had ever done.  He was going to destroy me.

But I didn’t think
I could bring myself to stay away from him.  I was already as addicted to him as Greg was to his heroin.  With that disconcerting realization, I came to a resolution.

Give him your body, Rose, not your heart.

Chapter 7

The damage
Clayton had inflicted on my psyche only became more painfully apparent throughout the course of the day.  Now that I was beginning to feel that I deserved better, Cheryl’s haughty demeanor grated on me more than ever before, and it took all of my determination to keep a smile in place.  Still, I could feel it was more of a baring of my teeth, and my obvious anger only seemed to please my bitchy boss.  It was the first time I had ever visibly shown my dislike for her, and her flashing eyes practically dared me to go off on her, to give her the excuse to fire me.

I desperately wanted to bring to life my recent sketches.  The sharp lines of them reflected the power of righteous fury, and creating them would have been cathartic.  Unfortunately, Greg had smashed my sewing machine over a month ago while searching for his stash, so that wasn’t an option.

To make matters worse, my clit had throbbed and ached all day as Clayton’s lust-filled, teasing words from the night before played in my mind over and over again, tormenting me.  The sweet pain of my unfulfilled arousal and the temptation of his wicked promises were almost enough to make me follow through with our agreement to meet for dinner and sex.

But I was too much of a coward to face him.  I wanted him desperately, but my shitty day had just proven to me that he was just as bad for me as Greg’s addiction was for him.  Clayt
on was changing me in a way I feared would be irrevocable if I allowed myself to be near him again.  The prospect was terrifying.