by Alam, Donna
‘Those martinis were meant as a precursor for screaming orgasms, but you know that, don’t you.’ Unrepentant, he grabs his beer from the table, bringing it to his mouth.
‘Then he had them alone.’ I fold my arms across my chest and the stupid bangles rattle again, so I yank them off and drop them to the table. ‘Unlike you and Sophia or the waitress; Saskia, wasn’t it? I’m beginning to ask myself how many more, Kai?’
His gaze turns cold, like shards of black ice. ‘Despite your insinuations, I have no interest in anyone else. And while we’re being candid, let me make something else perfectly clear. Fair warning, Kate. I rarely play well with others and I never share what’s mine.’
His voice is clipped, infinitely polite and definitely condescending. I just about manage to hold onto my cool.
‘Yours?’ I reply through gritted teeth. ‘Is that what you were doing with Matt just now? Marking your territory? Because you may as well have pissed up my leg. Didn’t you think it might be an idea to run it by me first?’
In an instant, I find my head in his hands, the heat back in his gaze. ‘I’ve never been so fucking transparent. Look at me, I can’t seem to stay away. Or is it the term boyfriend that offends you now?’
‘N-no,’ I stammer, my thoughts in disorder as his hands fall away.
‘Because I was under the impression you might actually like to have this defined.’ He waves an indicative finger between us. ‘Isn’t that what women want? Boundaries they can apply? Words they understand? It’s been a while since I offered myself up as relationship material, Kate.’
Such an ugly tone from such a beautiful mouth. My heart dips but strangely, I don’t want to run. I’ve never been very good at confrontation, preferring always to roll over, but not today.
I step forward, forcing him back on his heels.
‘I don’t know the kind of girl you’re used to, but I’m a very private kind.’ And right now the only thing I need defining is why he’s acting like a complete prick.
‘You don’t want people to know we’re together?’ One brow arches in a hostile fashion, belying the casual motion of a hand sliding into the pocket of his shorts. But his words betray him; he sounds shocked, if not a little hurt.
‘No, but I like to do it on my own terms. I’m not in the habit of sharing the details of my love life, and you just made me sound like a goer in front of Matt, my neighbour. You made me sound like a total slut.’
A dark, subterranean laugh rises through the depths of his chest, his expression shifting again as I’m confronted with a look that’s becoming all too familiar: Kai’s seduction face.
‘Sweetheart, I spend hours thinking of ways to make you sound like a slut, but those noises are for my ears alone. And only behind closed doors.’ Spoiling it all, he finishes with a smirk.
‘I won’t even pretend to know what that’s supposed to mean.’ I find my hands in the air, exasperation swirling around me like a cloak as he steps into me, his hands cupping my face.
‘Look how you storm. Your eyes have turned the colour of stormy seas.’
His face is so close, I could count the sparse coffee-coloured freckles across his nose. I try to stay rigid and angry, try to fight the effect he has on my body, before asking myself what would be the point. I want to meld into him, ache to be absorbed by him, overwhelmed.
‘Invite me upstairs,’ he breathes, running his thumbs from my brow to chin.
‘Why?’ The inane falls from my mouth in a whisper.
‘Because you value your privacy. Take me upstairs, kitten, come show me your claws.’
Desire dances between us like static electricity, longing almost palpable to the touch. I want to. God, I ache with want as his fingers travel lightly to my hips. But I also feel an overwhelming urge to assert some kind of control. In spite of myself and my arousal, I can’t disappear upstairs in the middle of an argument, no matter how hard my insides pulse at his poetic words. I need to make a point, though I can’t think quite what about at the minute.
Processing rational thought is a serious issue with his mouth just a hair’s breadth away. I’m so very aware of his breathing, the perspiration shining in the hollow of his throat. Involuntarily, I lick my lips, wanting to place my tongue there, let it travel the powerful muscles of his neck. Taste his salt, feel his . . .
Then he smiles, like he knows what comes next and suddenly that changes my mind, his actions hardening my resolve. I will not be a done deal today.
Fingers on his forearms, I lift his hands. ‘This is a party, Kai, and I’m not leaving. Just so we’re clear, I don’t sleep around and I don’t share, either.’ Drawing myself to my full five-foot-and-not-much, I tilt my head and sneer. ‘Sluts must be your thing. Tell me, what’s the difference for you between girlfriends and friends you just fuck?’
The muscles in his jaw begin to flex before he speaks. ‘Don’t do this here. Take me upstairs. Let me make the difference clear.’
‘I’m not interested right now, thanks.’
His fingers circle my wrist as I turn to walk away. ‘I’ve told you, people who fuck can never be friends. I want you, can make you feel those words. I promise monogamy in my affections. Is it so wrong to demand the same in return?’
‘But how long will your monogamy last?’ I place my free hand against his firm chest and stand on the tips of my toes to bring my mouth to his ear. ‘I’m not some girl you can fetter, fuck and . . . and forsake!’
His head recoils as I yank my wrist from his grasp. I turn on my heel and stride away doing my best to add a little sashay into my retreat, despite my bikini riding a slight wedgie.
Chapter Forty
My heart hammers against my ribs as I spend the next ten minutes trailing Niamh; my lifeline and strength in my resolve. We mingle, she introduces me to a smattering of people; names and faces that scarcely register as I sense his eyes following my every move. In my absence, the poisonous Jen all but drools over him, flicking her hair manically and tittering like a total twat. I can’t blame her, not really. He’s taken off his t-shirt, revealing abs you could use to grate cheese. I hate how the sight of Jen makes me almost want to pee on him myself. Obviously, not kinkily . . . each to their own, even if I can’t imagine what people find sexy in that.
But I feel sick with jealousy, and I want, irrationally, to tear the girl’s head from her shoulders. Sofia, Jen, either would do. I watch him peripherally, a bitter sickness twisting my insides. At the end of my forbearance and seething red-hot, I excuse myself from company, deciding to cool my anger in the pool. If Niamh senses my mood, she doesn’t say. Maybe she grew some tact?
Loosening my sarong to the tiles, I lower myself into the water and swim a cool length, coming to rest at the far side. Folding my arms across the pool edge, my legs are buoyant beneath the water line. To my right, Kai now stands at the edge of the cabana, one half of a deep-looking conversation with Niamh. His face wears an intense sort of look, while Niamh stands with hands braced against her hips in full-out teacher mode. I’m pleased I’m not in earshot and I don’t care if she is chewing his head.
Submerging my head in the now tepid water, I twist and push away from the wall. Halfway across the pool, I come to the surface much quicker than I should, not that I’ve intended to at all. I burst from the water like a flying fish as a head emerges from between my legs. I hang onto the head like grim death, as Matt links my feet under his armpits. Somehow, I’m securely seated on his shoulders.
What the hell?
‘Have you completely lost the plot?’ I splutter through the water, wiping it from my eyes and simultaneously struggling to stay upright.
‘We need a girl for the game. Your boyfriend won’t mind.’
Wading through the water, Matt approaches a group of guys who all appear to have precariously balanced girls on their shoulders. Behind me, Kai and Niamh stand no longer talking. Hand over her mouth, Niamh’s shoulders heave, but my heart begins the backstroke in my stomach acid at the dark l
ook of displeasure clouding Kai’s face.
‘What? Are you twelve or something?’ I swat Matt firmly across the head, but I’m still stuck. Short of thrashing around like a tantrum throwing toddler or thrusting my groin into the back of his head, I can’t see how I can get down. ‘Let me go,’ I hiss, bashing him again.
‘If you’re in the pool, you’re fair game. Building rules,’ he says, laughing.
Before I have a chance to reply, a brightly coloured striped ball glides towards me. I swat it away from my head, back in the direction it came from, drawing my neck into my shoulders, like some turtle/girl hybrid. I think I also squeal, but the ball continues to travel back and forth without heed.
Concentrating on staying upright, I can hardly think straight as I imagine Kai’s gaze burning holes through my back. I make a few feeble attempts at avoiding the ball before it sails towards my head once more and, leaning far over to my left, I somehow manage to unbalance Matt. He falters, losing his footing and we fall inelegantly into the water as one. Swimming quickly from his grasp to the edge, I climb clumsily from the pool, and don’t look back as I approach Kai, now stretched out in the shade of the palm trees on the sun lounger where I’d earlier left my towel and bag.
‘Hey,’ I say softly, standing dripping wet at the edge of the lounger. His torso is now covered and dark aviator frames hide his eyes, but his mouth, set in a grim line, tells me all I need to know. Unexpectedly, I feel like a child awaiting punishment; an unpleasant sensation, I recall. Reaching for my towel, I run it through the ends of my wet hair. ‘You’re mad.’ The whispered mother of all understatements as I wrap the towel loosely around my waist.
‘I thought I’d made my feelings clear.’
‘You can’t be serious. That was an ambush!’ My voice rises in octaves. I try to regulate it; I don’t want to cause a scene. ‘But I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, it’s only a game.’
‘A game?’ he repeats. ‘Then why aren’t I having fun?’
Parting his legs over the bed, he lowers his feet to the tiles and motions for me to sit in the newly created space. I move towards him without thought, skittering across the tiles like iron filings drawn by a magnet. My tension lifts a little, his mere proximity heating my wet skin, though he makes no movement to touch me, or even speak.
‘Please, Kai. I don’t want to fight over some stupid misunderstanding.’ I slide my feet into my platform sandals, more something to do than a necessity.
Leaning his head against mine, he moves my wet hair to one side. It’s a tender gesture, I imagine, to those looking on, at least. I shiver as the warmth of his breath kisses my damp shoulder.
‘Another man’s head between your legs is perfectly explicit, don’t you think?’ His lips touch my skin before his body withdraws.
‘But that wasn’t—it shouldn’t, I mean . . . My words trail off, involuntary images blazing through my mind. His tone is inscrutable, making it hard to judge if he’s hurt or angry, but still my mind reels. I regret my earlier words, but should I really feel contrite for something I had no part in planning? There’s no intimacy involved in a game of volleyball, even if his head was . . . where it was.
My eyes slide to the pool, my gaze finding Matt’s. I don’t think I imagine his smug look.
‘I’ve no interest in Matt. I don’t play games, I—’
I’m silenced by his finger against my lips as, arm around my waist, he pulls me against his chest. ‘Passion and anger are sometimes sides of the same coin, don’t you think?’
My brow furrows as I turn my head over my shoulder. Is he being deliberately obtuse? ‘Look, Kai, I don’t understand. What are you playing at here?’
‘Playing? We aren’t.’ He sighs, adding so softly, I almost don’t catch it, ‘more’s the pity.’ His slumps back against the bed. ‘Just forget it.’
‘You confuse me,’ I whisper.
‘I confuse myself when you’re around.’
And again, his words are so quiet, I’m not sure I hear right.
‘Then just tell me what you mean,’ I reply, trying to keep the exasperation out of my tone.
‘What I mean.’ He pauses, inhales, and sits forward again, threading his arms around my waist, his mouth at my ear. ‘Honestly? I want nothing more at this moment than to take you upstairs, make you lose the attitude and the bikini. Watch your face as I fuck you into some semblance of understanding. Fuck what I feel right into you.’ The end of his sentence draws off into a growl.
I almost convulse on the spot. My body shudders, his words a heat rushing through my bloodstream, swimming just under the surface of my skin, igniting in my mind and exploding in my core. My skin feels inexplicably alert, and I have a sudden urge to make this right, this thing between us. To make it better. And, obviously, on a more fundamental level, I just want what he wants. And I want him.
The towel falls to the bed as I stand and hold out my hand.
‘Come on, then.’ I try to take all emotion—excitement, trepidation, the urge to yell wheeee, out of my voice as his dark-lashed eyes make a slow progression up the length of my body, hooded eyes finally finding my own.
‘To?’
‘I’d tell you to take me to bed or lose me forever but the line’s a bit dated. A bit over-done.’
‘Are you making improper advances, Miss Saunders?’ His expression softens but is still a touch unsure.
‘Consider this a note from your teacher: See me. Upstairs.’
‘What about your friends?’ he asks, smile widening a touch.
I make a face as though considering this, then, ‘I’m not much into the group thing. Besides, my flat doesn’t have room.’
As he laughs, probably against his better judgement, he rises and takes my outstretched hand. Towering over me, a long finger tilts my chin.
‘Restitution?’ Fire still smoulders in his gaze, though his mouth is still a touch amused.
‘What? Oh, maybe in that case, someone needs to spank us both.’
His tentative smile transforms into a heart-stopping grin, like the rays of the sun breaking through a cloudy day and disappearing almost as quick. One minute my feet are on the tiles, the next they’re in the air as I find myself over his shoulder, arms hanging across his back as his large hands hold me by my knees.
‘Hey, put me down!’ I squeal as he moves towards the pool. For a mad moment, I think he’s going to launch me into the water and I’ve just gotten dry! Grabbing the waistband of his shorts, I cry, ‘No, Kai. Please not again!’
‘I love it when you beg.’ His voice is just a touch too loud, and he slaps my bikinied behind for emphasis.
‘Oi!’
Loosening my grip on the waistband of his shorts, I push my palms against the flat of his back to raise my head, desperate to hang onto the remaining fragments of my dignity. Girls giggle and guys snigger as we pass through their ranks. Matt is among them, looking seriously put-out as Kai bounds away, with me bouncing against his back.
‘You kids take care,’ Niamh calls in obvious delight.
I flip her the bird as best I can.
Chapter Forty-One
‘You can put me down now.’ My voice is muffled, my cheek lying against his back. ‘This isn’t very dignified, you know.’ As I raise my head, I can see my bikinied arse to infinity through the corners of the mirrored elevator walls. It’s as disconcerting as the flight of butterflies through my insides. I’m wondering how my shoes have stayed on when he slaps my arse again.
‘Ow! Lay off!’
‘You said you needed spanking.’ His reflection smiles wickedly. So I try to poke him with my toe without much success.
‘No, I said we, Kai, plural.’ Call it crossed wires, call it jealousy, but we’ve both been a little ridiculous this afternoon.
‘Not really my thing.’
‘And it’s mine?’ I squeak, and he laughs, but I don’t think it’s funny. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
The doors opens at this moment and he
strides down the hall, not bothering to answer me.
‘Put me down, you can stop with the caveman thing now. Ha! You don’t have my keys . . .’ My words trail off as he dangles a familiar pink, fluffy key-fob, extoling the virtues of a generic Kate.’
‘Pays to have friends in high places, don’t you think?’
‘Low, you mean. Of all the dirty—Niamh gave you my keys?’ I squeak, incredulous. It could only have been her, I’d left them in her bag earlier. I’m so gonna have something to say to her about this.
‘She thought we could do with some alone time.’
Oh.
Inside, he makes a beeline for the open door to my bedroom, throwing me against my rumpled and unmade bed. I squeal as I land, bouncing against the mattress, a little short of breath and chest heaving in anticipation. Judging by the gleam in his eyes, it’s a good visual.
And, Christ, there’s a sex god in my bedroom!
Why didn’t I want to be here with him earlier, again? I must be nuts.
He doesn’t follow me onto the bed, instead stepping backwards until he’s leaning back against my dresser. He smiles that knowing smile. It’s an expression as provoking as the sliver of skin exposed above the waistband of his shorts. I bite my lip at the sight of the taut, tanned skin as he pulls his tee to rib height, drawing it further up and over his head. His hands and hips lean back again, legs crossed at the ankle in a very casual stance.
My every nerve is heightened as the muscles of his back bunch and relax in the mirror, his heated gaze roaming over my skin.
‘Come here.’ There’s a hint of playfulness in his husky command, but still I push back.