There's Something About a Rebel- (10 page)

‘Shut up and kiss me,’ he said, and laid his lips on that luscious mouth as he’d wanted to do all evening.

A
S HIS
lips claimed hers, everything else flew out of Lissa’s mind except that this was Blake kissing her and she was kissing him back. His hands on her shoulders, her waist, her hips. His body heat searing her from neck to knee and every place between. His forest-fresh cologne and the musky scent of clean male sweat.

But mostly it was the way he kissed her. Hot with impatience, rich with desire. And with a fast-burning energy that threatened to spontaneously combust her right where she stood. His tongue plunged between her lips then withdrew, and again, making love to her mouth over and over until she felt her legs turning to jelly.

Somehow her desperate arms found their way around his neck, and she clung to him as if he were the one dependable reality in a world gone momentarily crazy.

He lifted his head and watched her through heavy-lidded eyes as he slid one hard palm between her thighs. Anticipation danced along her
nerve endings, heat shimmered on her skin and she shivered all over. ‘Yes …’

He continued to watch her as his hand moved higher. As his long fingers found the edge of her panties and crept beneath. As his thumb stroked her swollen sex, just once. Liquid heat rushed to her core and she sucked in a sharp breath as her intimate flesh quivered. ‘Oh,
yes.’
Her head fell back against the door and her eyes slid shut.

‘Do you like that?’ His breath tickled as he nibbled her ear lobe.

‘You know … a woman … who doesn’t?’ She wondered vaguely whether she was going to hyperventilate.

He stroked her again, then dipped a finger inside her. Drew it out slowly—a long smooth glide that sent her soaring halfway to the moon. He slid in once more. Two fingers. Deeper, more insistent.

Ribbons of colour played behind her eyelids, she felt the familiar rippling sensation building, building. So soon. a mere touch and she was already on the edge.

‘Look at me,’ he demanded, his voice harsh.

As the wave crashed over her and her internal muscles contracted around his fingers she opened her eyes and tumbled into his gaze. Candle-light flickered over his features and the room smelled of lilacs. ‘Yes, yes, yes-s-s.’ She felt herself start to slide down the wall and clung tighter to his neck.

‘Gotcha.’ With his hands beneath her bottom, he lifted her so that she was pinned against the door. She started wrapping her legs around his waist until the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled the room.

‘Oops.’ Her slightly hysterical, trembly laugh seemed to ricochet off the tiled walls.

They both heard the tap on the door and turned to stone, Blake’s hands clamped on her bottom.

‘Excuse me …’ An elderly woman’s voice.

‘Uh-oh,’ Lissa whispered. ‘Now we’re in trouble.’

Another knock, louder. ‘Is everything all right in there?’

‘Everything’s fine,’ Blake answered smoothly.

Before Lissa could disengage her arms from around his neck, he was fumbling for the pins at her bodice. His hands brushed her breast as he worked. Her nipples took no account of the fact that she and Blake were locked in a bathroom and some old lady was right outside the door probably waiting to use the loo, and puckered up even more tightly against his palm.

He pressed the pins into her hand, then stepped back to give her room to fasten the frayed edges, but her fingers shook so badly she barely managed the task. ‘I’m not sure it’ll hold for long.’

‘It doesn’t need to.’ His voice was tight and
gruff as he took her firmly by the arm, unlocked the door. ‘You first.’

‘Why me?’ she whispered back. Oh. She unlocked the door, pulled it open.

Gilda was waiting with a concerned elderly lady hovering behind her. ‘Oh, Lissa. Blake …?’ Her voice rose slightly on the last. ‘Margaret heard noises …’

Lissa stifled a nervous giggle that bubbled up.

Blake stepped behind her, his hands on her shoulders, and she felt an immediate surge of guilty embarrassment. She knew her face proclaimed to the world what she’d just been enjoying. Heat climbed into her cheeks. She didn’t dare look down at the hem of her dress.

But Blake, cool and in control, at least to outward appearances, said, ‘Wardrobe malfunction,’ his voice betraying none of the huskiness and dark passion she’d heard moments ago. ‘I’m taking Lissa home.’

‘Oh … that’s probably best.’ A tiny line creased Gilda’s brow. Obviously the shredded reason for their sudden departure wasn’t apparent to her, even if their exit from the bathroom together left little doubt as to what they’d been doing.

‘Thank you for coming, and thank you, Blake, for your very generous cheque.’

‘You’re welcome. I hope it’ll do some good.’ He dropped his hands and edged Lissa along with a firm palm at her back, obviously mindful
of the fragility of those pins and her super-stiletto shoes. ‘Thanks for inviting us.’

‘Um,’ Lissa agreed, vaguely. Her power of speech seemed to have deserted her. ‘‘Night.’

The moment they were away from prying eyes he swung her into his arms and carried her down the paved path. Under the street light his jaw was rigid, his eyes focused dead ahead. She could hear his heart thumping against her ear as he strode to the front door, keyed the security code and shouldered the door open.

He flicked on a light and they made it as far as the second stair—not far at all—before he bent his head and touched his brow to hers and said, ‘Lissa,’ in a strangled voice that spoke of barely restrained control.

He released her in such a way that her body slid slowly down the front of his, her feet landing on the step above where he stood. His lips were pressed together tight, eyes blazing with a passion that seared all the way through to her crazily beating heart and she wondered that it didn’t stop altogether.

But then he said, ‘Go on up to bed.’

Her heart did stop then, with a terrifying jolt before resuming its crazy rhythm. He didn’t mean that. He
couldn’t
mean that. Not after that mind-blowing trip to the moon he’d given her. Not with those eyes, not with that steel rod she’d felt as she’d slid down his rigid torso.

You’re not ready for what I’d like to do to you.

Maybe she
should
go while she had the chance. Flee straight up those stairs to her room and lock the door tight.

Her legs barely held her upright but she remained where she was. This was Blake, and a night of pleasure in his arms beckoned. She stared him down. ‘I’m not tired.’

A muscle in his jaw tightened and he growled through clenched teeth. ‘Go, Lissa. Before I do something we’ll both regret in the morning.’

‘I’m not going anywhere.’ Regrets were not on her agenda. ‘You want me,’ she said, and watched his eyes turn to smoke. ‘And I want you.’

If they made love, she was going to fall hard. She was risking her heart. But hadn’t her heart been his all along? ‘I’ve always wanted you.’

She felt him go still beneath her palm. His entire body seemed to turn to stone.
That’s right, Blake, think about that not-so-little confession.

The impact of her words took a moment to sink in. ‘Sweet heaven,’ he groaned softly, and closed his eyes. ‘You were only thirteen last time I saw you. For God’s sake, go. Go now.’

‘Blake, what I’m trying to say here is, it’s not a whim,’ she continued. ‘It’s n—’

‘Do you realise what would have happened back in that room if Nanna Margaret hadn’t knocked on the door and given me a moment to regain some sense? I’d have taken you where you
stood without a moment’s hesitation and to hell with the rest of the world.’

Lava geysered through her veins and she thought for one moment she might faint with the thrill.

‘And with not one damn thought of protection,’ he finished, his voice scraping like rough stone over her senses.

Her mind spun back to those rumours. The rumours she refused to believe. The rumours she’d condemned only hours ago. But even so, the heat cooled and congealed in her blood because there was one indisputable fact—he
had
been dating Janine.

Had he lost control with her? Had he been so driven, so lost, so crazy hot for her that he’d forgotten birth control? Sharp images of his hands, his mouth on the girl’s flesh, that hard masculine
unprotected
part of him plunging into her where she stood tore at Lissa.

‘And now?’ Her throat was clogged, her voice tight. ‘What, you’ve suddenly developed a conscience in the last few minutes?’

‘No.’ His eyes blazed. ‘That’s the problem, Lissa. You make me crazy. When I’m with you, when I’m anywhere near you, I don’t
have
a conscience. And I don’t seem to be able to function rationally.’

‘And you need to be in control at all times.’

His non-answer and the blue flame in his eyes told her all she needed to know, but she
could lure him over to the dark side. She could. ‘You’ve been trying
not
to wonder how this dress comes off all night, haven’t you?’

Blake didn’t move a muscle. His eyes … it was as if they were glued in place. He could
not
tear them away from those sun-spangled thighs. The twist of gold and the curves beneath.

‘It’s one long strip of fabric,’ she said. ‘Like a scarf. You start at the bottom—or the top—and unwrap it. Like a birthday gift.’

Birthday gifts? His mother hadn’t believed in such indulgences. Instead he’d been allowed to choose which charity he wanted to donate to. ‘I’m warning you now, I don’t do emotion, Lissa.’

‘Fine. We won’t do emotion. We’ll just have sex.’ She stepped out of her shoes.

Still facing him, she took a backward step, up one stair. Slowly, hypnotically, making the little coins on her dress jingle and drawing his gaze up and over her flat belly and full breasts. It also caused the air around her to eddy, bringing her sweet and sinfully tempting perfume to his nose.

The reincarnation of Circe, he thought, seducing him with a feast of the senses. Weaving a spell around him with those captivating eyes. Drawing him closer. Making his hand reach out in front of him as if it belonged to someone else.

But it wasn’t someone else’s fingers that tingled as they touched that warm flesh once more. And it was his hand that burned as it traced an
invisible line inside the fabric and up the smooth line of her leg. Ankle, calf, the back of her knee. The long firm length of her outer thigh.

His fingers retraced their journey down to the tattered hem of her dress and closed over the fabric, knuckles brushing her skin and feeling the quiver run through her like a tiny electric current.

Need. This ferocious and urgent and
soul-deep
need … He’d never experienced anything remotely like it. One yank and he could have her naked. Sprawled on the stairs while he plunged into her, her precious innocence gone in a few seconds flat.

She deserved better. So much better. He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at her. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

A flash of something lit her eyes and a small frown puckered her brow. ‘What do you mean. hurt me?’

‘You’re a virgin … and this. this. It isn’t—’

Her eyes widened.
‘Virgin?’

‘You mean you’re not?’ He stared at her while his mind reeled and his whole body tightened.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’

‘You said … Never mind.’

‘Blake.’ A smile stole across her lips. ‘I’m not a virgin. I haven’t been one in quite a while. I’ve had a few lovers in my time—just don’t tell Jared that. You really need to stop thinking of me as that kid you knew.’

‘I don’t,’ he muttered, his blood surging south, pulse hammering in his ears. ‘Believe me, I don’t.’

He wound the lower end of the fabric around his hand, tightened his fingers into a fist and tugged. ‘Come here.’

But she shook her head. ‘I feel like a swim.’ Her smile was wicked as she stepped past him on the step, twirling a circle as she went, the gold strip unravelling like a streamer behind her.

She continued whirling across the room towards the patio, shedding any inhibitions he’d thought she had along with her scarf. He saw that she was wearing a tiny triangle of tarnished gold lace, her luscious breasts spilling out of a matching strapless bra.

She ran out of scarf and jerked to a stop. Blake growled low in his throat and walked towards her, gathering up the fabric. Reeling her in. But before he got within reach she tossed her end to the floor and was off, flinging the patio doors wide.

Her bare bottom flashed in the light spilling from the house as she danced across the slate tiles. At the edge of the pool she turned and met his gaze. Peeled the bra off and threw it over her shoulder. Slid her hands down her hips, taking her gold thong with them.

He felt a momentary disappointment that she’d robbed him of the opportunity to perform the task himself, then again, he shrugged. What
a view. He breathed out a sigh. Perfection. Every tempting hollow, every inviting curve.

‘Stay right where you …’ she smiled at him, then stepped backwards into the water ‘.are,’ he finished.

She bobbed up again almost immediately, her eyes laughing. ‘Feels good.’ Her voice was as sultry as the night. ‘Don’t you want to feel good, Blake?’

Oh, yeah. ‘Get out so I can see you.’

‘Sure you don’t want to join me in the water?’

‘Maybe later.’ He beckoned her. ‘Out. Now.’

She shrugged and moved to the ladder, climbed out. Water sluiced off her body, leaving droplets clinging to her skin like diamonds, her dripping hair a dark crimson threaded with gold ribbons.

He didn’t take his eyes off the glorious sight as he quickly stripped down to skin. He saw her eyes widen at the sight of his throbbing erection, felt the hot stroke of her gaze clear across the patio.

His mouth watered at the sight of her glistening nipples puckered up with the pool’s chill. As he watched water gathered at the rosy tips and dripped onto the slate. Urgency whipped through his body like a loosened high-tension wire in a blustery wind, but he refused to hurry.

She was the birthday cake he’d never had and he was going to take his own sweet time over her
and indulge. Before they were done he was going to sample every delectable square centimetre.