by Kym Roberts
A quiver in her leg brought images of her body reacting to his touch moving higher to the soft skin on her inner thigh. Would his touch stir heat, or would she recoil before he reached the juncture of her thighs—and heaven. He wanted to go there. Tempt the seductress trapped inside her head. This woman didn’t know how gorgeous she was. Or maybe she did, but hated the pain it had brought her. Maybe that’s why she hid her body in baggy pants and misshapen shirts that nearly reached her knees.
But that wasn’t the purpose of this massage. He was serving her. Taking care of her and making sure she understood she was on the receiving end of the attention, without force or coercion. His touch was light, yet firm as he worked the muscles in her toes. She was still stiff, but he sensed a change in her body as she got more comfortable in the plush chair. The creases in her brow began to relax as the music and his touch became more involved.
For his part, Khaos locked down the section his brain, and body, that wanted to peel off her clothing. It wasn’t happening tonight. Tonight was for her to get used to his touch and nothing more. He had to think of something that would keep him from turning the massage sensual. He had to be business-like, professional. He wasn’t quite sure how to do that since every other massage he’d given had been meant to awaken desire. He was good with his hands. He knew that, but being good for a sex partner was much different than offering a no-strings attached foot rub.
Her voice surprised him. Soft and melodic, he glanced up to find her eyes closed and her head swaying to a tune he couldn’t hear. She was humming, and that, more than the actions of his strong hands on her dainty little feet seemed to relax her. His ego should have felt slighted. She was disappearing from the hotel room into another place where he didn’t exist. He finally recognized the song she hummed and joined her.
Her body instantly stiffened. He felt, rather than saw her gaze fall upon him, but he didn’t stop. He looked up at her and expected her to hide behind closed eyelids. She didn’t.
“In order for this to really work, you can’t escape inside your thoughts. I have to be there with you. It doesn’t have to be sexual, I just have to be there with you.”
Her hooded gaze gave no indication she’d heard him. Instead she just closed her eyes and continued to hum the happy, carefree tune. Their voices joined once more as he moved to her other foot. Slowly pressing, he explored the curves of her foot like he’d never seen such a sight before in his life. He moved his hand up the smooth expanse of her calf and her humming stuttered. She wasn’t as unaffected as she tried to make him think.
He continued to hum as if he hadn’t noticed the hesitation in her voice, or the tensing of her body.
“Focus on the good, not the bad,” he said. “Think how good my hands feel on your feet. Are you okay with me continuing on to your calves? I won’t go any further.”
She nodded but didn’t say a word. He needed her to acknowledge him verbally. She couldn’t make him disappear into the context of wherever her mind went to escape intimacy.
He held her leg gently, but didn’t move his fingers. “I need you to say, ‘please massage my legs.’”
She bit her bottom lip. He knew she’d been ordered to say things, do things she didn’t want any part of, but this was different. Téa wanted to feel. Wanted to enjoy. Wanted to respond to his touch and he was going to make damned sure she did. No matter what it took.
“Please massage my legs, Khaos,” she said and closed her eyes.
Chapter Ten
He was asleep in the bed next to her. Dear God, what had she been thinking to ask this man for more? He was pushing boundaries she wasn’t ready to cross and forcing her to feel things she didn’t want to experience. So why had she asked him to break down her walls? What was it about this tall, gorgeous man, other than the obvious? She’d had sex with good-looking men. Sex with ugly men. Sex with athletes, sex with sloths.
Not the animal. The lazy kind of man who couldn’t move off the bed because I’m-so-high type. Sex was sex. A performance to please. That was it.
Yet she knew for some people it wasn’t like that. Her parents had been in love. Touched, grabbed and kissed one another like they couldn’t get enough of each other. Twenty years into their marriage and they acted like newlyweds. Memories of how they’d embarrassed her on numerous occasions with their public displays of affection at the high school football games had come back to her in her dreams the previous night. Throughout her teens she’d secretly known their marriage was the type of marriage she wanted.
Then Marco had entered their lives and ruined everything. Her memories had turned to ash—until Khaos.
She stared at his blond hair that was scrunched up in the most adorable fashion. An image of her mom in their family kitchen making breakfast slid into her memory. It’d been during that last summer they’d spent together and her dad had worked late the previous night on a house construction site that had fallen behind schedule. He’d shuffled into the kitchen wearing basketball shorts, scratching his stomach and smiling.
“Bacon,” he’d said. “Bacon, bacon, bacon!” As if he was the dog in the commercial jumping around for a bacon flavored treat. Then he’d walked over to her mom, wrapped his arm around her middle and nuzzled her neck.
Téa had quickly said, “Gross, Da-ad,” in dramatic disgust.
Her mother had responded by turning in his arm and laughing at of her father’s bedhead. Then she’d run her fingers through the dark mass and tousled it up just a bit more before she took his face in her hands and kissed him like his morning breath wasn’t a thing.
Téa knew it was. Her dad had the worst morning breath she’d ever experienced—until life introduced her to much worse.
She closed her eyes on the past and tried to focus on the present. Khaos slept like having a stranger in his bed was no big deal. Last night she’d stared at the ceiling waiting for the inevitable. He would touch her, grope her and then drive into her from the front, from behind, hell while she stood on her head. Then he would touch her clit and she would moan with fake ecstasy. That’s what sex was like in reality.
Her parents’ marriage was a fantasy. Simple as that.
But Khaos didn’t touch her. Didn’t grope her. He didn’t even act like he wanted to have sex with her. He turned his back to her and within minutes, had fallen into a deep sleep. It was three minutes after three in the morning when he’d rolled over to face her. She’d nearly had a heart attack knowing that was the moment he would have sex with her.
Except he hadn’t. Khaos proceeded to snore. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious, just soft and melodic, like his voice. She let her gaze drop to his mouth remembering the moment.
“I could give you a picture if you’d like one.”
She nearly jumped as her eyes met his heavy, smoky gaze glittering with humor. She sat up and turned to get out of bed, but a hand on her arm stopped her.
“Don’t go. It’s important that we get comfortable with one another. Lay back down and talk to me.”
She looked over her shoulder. He was leaning up on one elbow, his broad chest displayed magnificently in his t-shirt that had ridden up at the waist to showcase hard abs. He truly was a fine looking man, but it was his tussled blond locks that made her lay back down.
“What do you want to talk about?” She asked while staring up at the ceiling.
“What’s your favorite color?”
She turned back to him. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
As he grinned, the right corner of his mouth rose up just a tad bit higher than the left. The man wasn’t perfect after all, yet that little imperfection made him even more perfect. “Okay, smarty pants. Name the one food you would stock in your cupboards if you lived through a societal collapse, like in Mad Max?”
That nearly made her laugh. “Mad Max? Do you really think people will end up like that?”
He shrugged. “It’s not beyond the realm of possibilities. Come on. What food would
you choose?”
She thought about it for a moment, tapping her lip in the process. Then as an idea formulated in her mind, she found she liked this particular question. “Cornbread mix. Boxes and boxes of cornbread mix.”
He stared at her like she’d lost her mind. “Cornbread,” he repeated. “You plan on living on cornbread mix.”
“Of course. You can bake it and use it to make ethanol.”
“You do realize they didn’t have water or milk. Or eggs for that matter.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “What? You didn’t tell me that.”
“That’s kinda the idea behind the movie. Everyone’s fighting to survive. No food. No water. No resources.”
“I thought it was a gas shortage.” He looked at her like she’d grown three breasts in the middle of her face. It was either that or her face was a train wreck, she couldn’t tell.
“What?” She asked.
“You’ve never seen Mad Max?”
“It was kinda before my time.”
“Are you implying they made it during my time?”
She shrugged, enjoying his defensiveness.
“I’m not that old.”
“If you say so.” It was rather comical how sensitive he was being about his age. Téa didn’t think men got that way until certain things no longer worked. “How many grandkids do you have?”
His eyebrow quirked. “When I’m ready for retirement, I’ll let you know.”
“Will that be this year? I want to make sure I get you a walker for that knee replacement you’re going to need.”
“My knee will be with me until the end.”
“Really? Are you on your deathbed? Cause if you are, this bed sharing stops now.”
“Okay, smarty pants. Ask a question.”
She tapped her finger on her lip and decided to go for the shock factor. “How old were you the first time you had sex?”
His eyebrows lifted in disbelief, before he took the cowards’ way out. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“I didn’t ask about your first kiss. I asked about losing your V-card.”
“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
“Nope.”
“Fine. Although it’s a bit cliché.”
“Now you have me intrigued, Agent Artino.”
“Khaos. I told you it’s Khaos.”
“Why in the world would your family call you Khaos?” Thinking of the man who’d dropped out of the sky the previous night, she asked, “Do you have ninjas attack you on every job?”
He shook his head with a smile on his face.
“Do troops of Girl Scouts mob you and shove cookies down your throat?” She would do that if she was a prepubescent girl faced with a man like him, but he snorted and shook his head one more time. “No? You’re right. You’re more the type to have Victoria Secret models surround you with their diamond studded bras and panties and leave diamond cuts all over your body.”
His arm rose to the back of his neck as he grimaced. It was as if she’d hit her target.
“No. Way.”
“I’ve got the scars to prove it.”
Flabbergasted, she had to ask. “Where? Let me see them.”
He turned on his back and reached for his shorts.
She slapped her hand over her eyes. “No! No! No! That’s not necessary.”
“But I want to show you so you know I’m telling you the truth.” His voice was full of sincerity.
“I believe you.”
“Téa, at some point, you have to look at my naked body.”
He didn’t move. The bed was completely still and she had to wonder just how far down he’d pulled his shorts before he stopped. Were they to his hips? His knees? That thought made her gulp. What if they were around his ankles or completely off?
Dear Lord, what had she gotten herself into?
Téa pulled her hands away from her face and slowly opened her left eye. The sight in front of her made her right eye fly open, and then she laughed.
Khaos was laying on his side facing her with his shorts pulled down low on his hips displaying rock hard abs and a trail of blond hair leading down from his belly button. His right hand was pointing to a thin white scar about an inch and a half long on his lower right abdomen.
She giggled. “That’s from an appendec-tomy.”
His face was as stoic as an agent hiding behind mirrored aviator sunglasses. “No, that’s from a diamond studded bra of a Victoria Secret model.”
Téa pulled down the borrowed boxers she was wearing. “I must have met the same model.”
“Damn, I bet that was hot.”
Only when she laughed did the grin return to his face. The banter they’d shared was like magic. Even with Sister Francesca and Anna she’d never talked this freely. How was it possible, after knowing him just a few short hours she could tease and joke so comfortably?
“You’re beautiful when you smile, did you know that?”
Her laughter dried up at his words.
“Can I touch you?”
She nodded, not certain of what she was agreeing to, but wanting it so badly she’d do anything for him to touch her. Want her.
He lifted his hand to her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear. “I really like what you did with your hair. Don’t get me wrong, you’re natural color is pretty, but it’s almost as if the highlights brought life back into your eyes.”
She knew what he was talking about. When she’d entered the salon and sat down in the chair, her hair had been almost as sad and mousy as her eyes. She wore her past as if it was tattooed on her psyche, but sitting in that salon with her back to the mirror had made her anxiety flourish. She bit her nails, and got her hands smacked by the hairdresser for “giving in to that nasty habit.” When the stylist turned her around to survey her new look, the light in her hair had been translated in her gaze. Staring back at her was a woman who wanted to live, not just survive. She was starting over with a new beginning, and she wanted to make sure she smelled every flower, tasted every cookie, and for good measure, every fruit and vegetable at the farmer’s market too. She was taking charge of her future and not letting the past determine who she would be.
“I think it did,” she admitted as his touch ran down her ear and along her jaw line to her chin. It was only when his thumb traced her bottom lip that her pulse quickened. She wanted to take it into her mouth and taste him. Run her tongue over his thick, strong digit and savor a part of the man lying across from her, who was currently staring at her mouth.
“May I kiss you?” He asked, his gaze returning to hers.
“Yes.” Her response was as much a shock to her, as it was to him. But he recovered quickly. If not, she may have changed her answer to an emphatic, “No.”
Keeping his eyes on hers, he slowly bent forward and brushed his lips against hers. His touch was tender and shockingly gentle. Had a man ever been gentle with her before? She didn’t think so.
The first kiss was light and sweet, the way a first kiss should be. The way her first kiss at seventeen should’ve been. She’d never been in a hurry to capture that first taste of intimacy. Partly because her parents had never allowed her to be in a position where a boy would feel comfortable making a move, and partly because she’d gone to an all-girls private high school. She wished this was her first kiss. Khaos would’ve shown her how gentle a man could be.
He pulled back to gauge her reaction. She smiled and nodded to his silent question, because God, how could she turn her back on something so tender? So giving. So real.
The second time their mouths met, she moved closer and allowed their bodies to touch. She expected her desire for him to cool. She’d never experienced it before Khaos, and couldn’t imagine it blossoming into something stronger. Never before had the touch of a man made her crave for more.
But her hunger didn’t temper, or recede. It did the opposite. Something inside her suddenly flicked on
like a crowd at a concert when the lights turned out and a rock star walked out on stage. It was instant, outrageous, and there was no dialing back the surge of excitement coursing through her body. His mouth moved on hers with open abandon. His hand held the back of her head with commanding assurance as he explored every aspect of her lips. Nipping, licking, sucking until his teasing tugged at something inside her she couldn’t identify.
A desire to do something in return rushed through her body. She knew all of the things a man wanted from a faceless whore, but what did a man, who knew the woman lying next to him, want? Would he want the same practiced act, or was there something more? She had experience so much, she should know exactly what to do in this situation, yet he didn’t act like the other men.
He wasn’t ordering her to undress or undress him. His tongue entered her mouth slowly. Tasting and exploring every inch of her and his passion drew a whimper from somewhere inside her. He pulled away and she wanted to draw him back—demand he not stop.
“Are you okay?” He asked.
“Yes,” she panted; her voice barely audible.
“Did I scare you?”
She wanted to laugh and cry and bury her head in embarrassment. He thought her heaving, I’m-running-for-my-life breathing was from fear, when it was the exact opposite. Maybe some of it was fear, but not of him. She was out of breath because of her response to his touch, his kiss, and his command of her body. He was nothing like the men she’d been with. He didn’t force her, hurt her, or punish her with his every sick whim. Instead he was looking at her with a tenderness she’d never known from any man, other than her father.
Agent Daniel Khaos Artino, however, wasn’t her father, nor did he bring out the same kind of feelings within her. His gaze wasn’t parental, nor was it lecherous or leering. Yet she saw it there, in the depths of the sweeping grey caress of his eyes—desire. Desire that burned hotly, if somewhat discretely. He wanted her in a way no other man had. He knew her nonna, her past, her current life and the lack of a future staring her in the face. He knew her damaged soul, her mistrust of anything male, and yet there he was, waiting for an invitation for more. She didn’t want to refuse, but couldn’t risk ruining the gift he’d given her. What if she allowed him to continue and he turned into one of them…