Veiled Desire (8 page)

The ring of his phone woke Mason up, and he groped for it. “’Lo?”

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

He blinked awake and rose on his elbows. He hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch. The eventful night and day must have taken its toll on him. “Leyla. Hey. Where have you been? You weren’t answering your phone. I had some news.”

“I had to take care of some errands. How did things go with my brother?”

“He’s moved from killing me on principle to maybe bludgeoning me if I hurt you.”

Her soft laugh filled his ear. “I knew you could sort it out. I’ll talk to him again tomorrow. Maybe we can have dinner together next week, once he has time to get his mind around it.”

Privately, Mason figured it would take more than a week for Sasha not to freak out over him and Leyla showing up at a restaurant together. God forbid they should hold hands or something. He made an affirmative noise.

“Well, I’m glad that sort of worked out.”

“Where are you? I want to see you.”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“Turn off your light.”

He cast a glance at the lamp on his end table. He started to turn toward his back door. “Are you home?”

“Nuh-uh.” Her voice was sharp, and he froze. “Don’t look yet. Just turn off your light.”

He smiled a bit goofily and leaned over to switch his light off. The room plunged into darkness. “Okay.”

“Okay.” There was excitement in Leyla’s breathless voice. “Look now.”

Savoring the moment, he stood from the couch and looked out his back window.

She stood inside her sliding glass doors, surrounded by glowing candles. The flickering light cast shadows on the creamy skin of her face.

She wore a lacy little red…he didn’t know what it was called. A robe? But robes were terrycloth and utilitarian, and this number was anything but. It hit her at mid-thigh, and there were so many holes in the lace, her skin played peek-a-boo with it.

Mason threw his phone on the couch, and he watched her do the same with her own. Her smile was all femme fatale. A bit dazed, he walked closer to his door, unlocking it. As he slid it open, her hands went to the knot at her waist, and he froze.

The robe parted, and underneath she wore the next best thing to naked in his mind.

The red bikini.

With a sexy shimmy, she dropped the robe to the floor and smiled. There she stood proudly, every fantasy he’d ever had. Her luscious, petite curves were highlighted in the bright red fabric, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder. As he watched, she pushed it back so he had an even better view.

He didn’t care that he was walking barefoot across their shared backyard, didn’t care that he was stripping in public, pulling his shirt off and dropping it on the grass and unbuttoning his jeans. He didn’t care about anything but finally touching the dream that had been haunting him for so long.

Her door was unlocked, and she studied him with that knowing smile as he came inside. He locked the door and then pulled the blinds. When he turned around, he pushed his jeans and his boxers to the ground in one smooth motion. “If you were hoping we’d talk first, you went about it the wrong way,” he said hoarsely.

“Talk’s nice. But I’d really like you to fuck me first.”

Whatever tight rein he’d kept on his passion split at the unexpected swear word falling out of her sweet lips. With a groan, he gave in and pulled her forward, lifting her and turning ’til her back hit the wall.

Their mouths met, their tongues dueled. She pulled away, and unable to keep his lips off her, he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down her neck. “Condom’s in my top.”

He hissed at the interruption, but he knew she was right. Besides, he liked where she hid stuff. He jerked her left cup down, and her breast spilled right out. No condom, but who could ever be sad about a firm, supple breast. “Hello there,” he muttered, and then licked the tight nipple.

She squirmed against him. “Other one. Hurry.”

Though he didn’t want to leave his new friend, he reluctantly pulled away and tugged at the other cup. A single foil package fell out.

They separated only long enough for him to roll the condom on, and he resented even that much time away from her.

As if she could read his mind, she smoothed a hand over his face as they came back together. “I made an appointment to go see my OB next week. It’ll take some time for the pill to take effect, but when it does…”

He could maybe slip inside her sweet body without any barriers? Christ, he couldn’t even think about that without wanting to jump and shout. He tried to nod. “Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“You’ve got me.” He adjusted her body, pushed the crotch of her little red bikini bottom to the side and drove into her, the tight clasp of her pussy just about blowing the lid off his control. He braced her against the wall and pounded into her, knowing he was too rough but unable to stop. Especially once she started getting more vocal, mewling and begging for more against his lips.

Unable to wait any longer, he freed one hand and maneuvered it between their bodies to pluck the hard bud of her clitoris. Her cries escalated, and he felt the contractions of her release around him. Only then did he allow himself to come.

In the aftermath, he braced himself against her and tried to think enough to speak. “Did I hurt you?”

She didn’t open her eyes, and he was gratified to know he wasn’t the only one who was completely wiped out. “I’m not that delicate.”

No. She was the strongest woman he’d ever met. “I know.”

“I love you, you know.”

If he’d had a little more energy, he might have done a back flip. Instead, he just smiled and nuzzled her sweaty neck. “I love you too.”

She yawned, a lusty, ear-popping noise. “I wanted to tell you that over a nice romantic dinner. We’re going all out of order again.”

“It seems to work for us.” He shifted her weight and felt his body harden.

She inhaled. “You can say that again.”

About the Author

Alisha Rai has been enthralled with romance novels since she smuggled her first tattered Harlequin home from the library at the age of thirteen. A mild-mannered florist by day, she pens sexy, emotional contemporaries and paranormals by night.

After a lifetime spent bouncing around the States, she is content to call sunny South Florida home for now. When she’s not reading or working, Alisha loves to hang out with her close-knit family. She happily lives in a chaotic house filled with clutter, laughter, good food, boisterous kids and very loud relatives.

Alisha loves to hear from her readers! You can send her an e-mail at [email protected] or visit her on the web at www.alisharai.com.

Look for these titles by Alisha Rai

Now Available:

Glutton for Pleasure

Cabin Fever

Love isn’t something she thinks she needs…until it lands right on her doorstep.

Cabin Fever

© 2009 Alisha Rai

Genevieve Boden is a witch and doesn’t care who knows. The townspeople’s fear of her keeps away those who have hurt her before—like the local men of authority. Besides, a life of exile deep in the woods of West Virginia is due punishment, she figures, for the part she played in her mother’s death. If she’s alone, no one need know that the trauma took away her powers.

Then she finds a bloody, fatally wounded man slumped on her porch. In an instant, her healing ability reawakens—and that’s not all. He stirs a hunger beyond her wildest dreams. But a relationship with the new chief of police? Not a chance.

Alex Rivera isn’t sure how he survived, but he’s certain his beautiful savior did more than just bandage his wounds. Captivated by this wary angel and stunned by the depth of emotion he feels for her, he vows to discover her secrets. After all, thanks to the raging snowstorm, they have nothing to do but share body heat.

Their sizzling attraction goes straight to their hearts. So could a killer’s bullet…once whoever shot Alex finds them.

Warning: Contains a convenient snowstorm that throws together two wounded characters who happen to be wildly attracted to each other, a drool-worthy hero, a shotgun-toting heroine, mattress sex, shower sex, couch sex, armchair sex, some light bondage, and a really good cup of hot cocoa.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Cabin Fever:

“Either deal, or let me go do some work.”

He shut up and dealt another hand. This game went on for much longer, and while they played, Alex teased and bantered. By the time he won with a satisfied smirk, Genevieve was in a much better mood.

She tensed, though, certain he would continue the earlier line of questioning. Instead, he gave her a naughty grin. “So. Who’s your ideal man?”

She blushed and contemplated forfeiting. Not because she didn’t want to answer the question, but because the answer was self-evident, and she really wanted to kiss him.

“Let me help you.” He picked up her hand and played with her fingertips. Sensations tingled through them everywhere he touched. “We’ll skip past personality because it goes without saying that he’d be someone smart, strong and attentive to your every need.” He waggled his dark brows at her, and her lips quirked.

“Let’s move on to looks.” He brought her hand to his head, and she threaded her fingers through the coarse silk without any coaxing from him. “He’d be dark?”

Genevieve licked her lips. “I’ve always been partial to blonds.”

“Hmm. There’s hair dye.” Still holding on to her hand, he brought it down his neck until it lay over his hard pec. “You’d want a bit of chest hair on him, I’m guessing.”

God, he had the perfect amount of hair on his body, a smattering on his chest that arrowed down into his boxers. “I prefer men who wax.”

He shuddered. “If that’s what it takes.” He drew her hand down farther to his belly. His hard, rippled, six-pack belly.

You’ve touched him here before. Stay cool.

Alex smirked. “You’ll want someone strong?”

“Unnnh-huh.” She swallowed. “I mean, I really love potbellies. Paunches.”

“I’ll start eating as soon as someone starts feeding me.”

“I love your body,” she said in a rush, her honesty taking over.

His hand stilled over hers. He grinned, a full-fledged, ear-to-ear kind of thing. “I’m glad,” he said simply.

“Is it hypocritical that I don’t have a hard body, but I like that you do?”

His thumb rubbed the back of her hand. “I work out because I like to, and I need to stay fit for my job. I’m thrilled you like the results of that work, but like I told you, I love the way you look right now. So, no.”

That little stroking thumb was driving her crazy, to say nothing of the muscles moving beneath her palm. She could slide her hand right below the cover and the sheets, encircle his penis…

She glanced down, and her eyes widened at the tent in the blanket. He followed her gaze and grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought you couldn’t…”

“I can. I probably can’t do a lot with it right now, but I can at least…get it up.” His tone was wry.

Genevieve was suddenly short of breath. She’d never been quite so attracted to someone. Though she knew what she was doing wasn’t very smart, she looked up and met his gaze. “I think I should have to pay a forfeit.”

His eyes flared. “Yeah?”

“Well I didn’t exactly answer your question, you kind of guided me.”

He leaned a bit closer, and she realized she’d swayed closer as well. “I’d say you’re right…”

His hand slipped behind the nape of her neck and drew her down.

Man, the guy could kiss. He made no allowances for his invalid status, he just angled her head and dived right in. It didn’t take her long to respond to his enthusiasm. She was the first one to flick her tongue out against his lips. He grunted and tangled his against hers, then flicked it into her mouth, over and over. When she became more aggressive, nipping at his lower lip and drawing it into her mouth to suckle it, he groaned and sank his other hand into her hair.

Passion overtook her brain. She no longer cared about who he was or where he was from. All that mattered was that he was a man, she was a woman, and they wanted each other very badly. Everything else could work itself out later.

His palm slid down her throat, continuing until he completely covered her breast. He didn’t even have to do anything else; the mere touch of his hand caused her nipple to harden. Her fingers clenched on his belly, kneading the hard flesh. He squeezed her breast in reaction.

His next sound was more shocked as her hand slid lower, taking the covers with it, until her palm rested over his groin. His cock was so hard, the fat tip had punched out past the elastic waistband of the boxers.

He tore his mouth away from hers. Both of them were breathing heavy. They stared at each other for a moment, connected physically through the intimate touch on her breast and his cock. The cotton separating their flesh could just as well been nonexistent.

God it felt so good, the passion and excitement rolling inside of her. No guilt or worries, though they would probably come later.

He raised his other hand to her, but she caught the flinch as his injury pulled. Genevieve linked her fingers through his and brought it down to his side. “Stop moving.”

His smile was a baring of teeth. “I told you I don’t take orders in bed well.”

The spurt of power surprised her. “You don’t have any choice right now, though, do you? Stay still.”

When he froze, she questioned her method. What exactly did she hope to accomplish here?

“Kiss me again,” he murmured.

Well, that she could do. She leaned in, savoring every second of the moment.

This kiss was slower, a natural progression of rising lust. It seemed right to keep her hand over his cock, to try to get rid of the barrier. He raised his hips slightly when she slid his boxers out of the way and caught the heavy weight of his erection in her hand. He gasped as if she’d goosed him with an electrical current.

She drew away and looked down. The tip of his penis was already wet, the dark skin stretched and tight. A stab of uncertainty hit her. “Tell me if I do something wrong. I haven’t done this in a while.”