Sinful Intentions

by Amy Redwood

  “A date,” she repeated. “Of course not. After all, we just fuck.” She opened the glove box, took out his cell phone, punched redial, waited. “Linda,” she said when she heard her answer, “this is Katherine again, yes, everything is fine. I realize this is rather forward of me, but my fiancé—yes, yes, I’m engaged—anyway, he just flew in from New York, very unexpectedly. I wondered if—” She listened, laughed. “The more the merrier? That’s great, Linda.” She hung up, stored the cell phone away.

  Ah, she thought, feeling his dark gaze all but burn a hole in her head. She had his attention now.

  “Your fiancé is in Auckland?”

  If an iceberg had a voice, she thought, it sure would sound like him.

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Then why the hell did you come to the beach with me today!” He punched the truck’s dashboard.

  She closed her eyes, waited for him to continue yelling at her. When he didn’t, she said, “That’s a question I’ve recently asked myself as well.”

  “He can’t come to Linda’s party.”

  “Well, I’ll leave it up to him if he wants to show up. It’s the perfect place to meet him. This works for me.”

  “Not for me,” he pressed through his teeth.

  “Why ever not?”

  “Because I can’t be in the same room with him.”

  “Why?” she whispered, wishing, wanting him to admit that there was more between them then just sex. “Why not, Trent?”

  She tried to catch his gaze, but he was staring straight ahead, his hands white-knuckled around the wheel. “You’re right,” he said and started the truck again. “Sorry, I’ve had too much sun, I guess. It’s not my business where and how you want to reconcile with him. I’ll pick you up at nine sharp.”

  Chapter Nine

  Like Trent’s mood, the summer evening was way too dark. The sky had changed from brilliant blue to dense white clouds to a gray blanket that drowned out most of the light. The very thought about seeing both Katherine and Vivian in the same room in less than an hour caused him a headache.

  He’d known Viv half his life—they had the same interests, friends. They agreed on important issues—key ingredients to a successful marriage. He’d helped too many couples divorce because those qualities had been missing from the start. Viv was smart, savvy, attractive. Once he put his mind to it, he was sure they would get along fine in bed. They trusted each other. They were friends. And Viv would never leave him once they got married and mated—they were both shifters, wolves. And children, he wanted kids. She was the logical choice.

  He’d known Katherine less than a week. He didn’t know her family or friends. Half the time, he had no idea what went on in her head. They were nothing alike. She’d leave him at the first opportunity if it struck her fancy. She’d never quite trust him to be faithful, she wouldn’t understand that he’d never cheat on his mate. She wasn’t a shifter. But what killed him, broke him, was that she was in love with another man.

  He was so royally fucked he couldn’t believe it.

  Shifting gears, he drove slowly up the street and tried to relax his clenched jaw.

  He stopped the truck in front of Ada’s house, switched off the engine and jumped out.

  “You’re early.”

  He turned when he heard her voice. His heart missed a beat when he saw her walking toward him. Her curls had turned into a waterfall of sleek dark hair flowing silkily around her face and across her shoulders. Her dress…very elegant, probably expensive, didn’t leave a single trace of doubt about the curves underneath.

  Yes, she wanted her fiancé back. Why else dress like that?

  “Can I ask you for a favor?” she asked.

  “Anything,” he said, meant it too.

  “I need you to drive slowly. As you know, I have a nervous stomach.”

  He tossed her the car keys, which she caught without batting an eye. “Why don’t you drive?”

  “Sure,” she answered, walking to the driver’s side.

  He groaned inwardly, reconsidering. She couldn’t be familiar with left-sided traffic, but if she felt apprehension, she didn’t show it. As she passed him and slipped into the driver’s seat, he caught a hint of her perfume, a hint of her unique scent.

  That was all it took to make him hard. He wanted to rip that dress off her body and fuck her right there, anywhere, really, as long as he could bury himself in her. Walking around the car, he felt his temples throbbing with an ever-increasing headache. He climbed into the seat next to her. Her dress had moved up, revealing most of her thighs.

  “It would help if you gave me the directions,” she said, starting the engine.

  “It’s not far. Follow the main road for now.” He shifted in his seat and let his gaze slowly wander over her.

  “Would you please stop staring at me?”

  “You look different,” he said quietly, reaching out to touch her hair. His fingers ran smoothly through her silky strands. He missed the flush in her cheeks, her curls, her bare feet underneath a simple summer dress. Instead she was this cool, beautiful, high-maintenance woman. “You look like trouble.”

  “Luckily for you, you won’t have to deal with me tonight.”

  True. And he had no idea how he was going to survive being in the same room with the man who was going to marry her.

  “What did you do today?” he asked, folding his hands to prevent himself from touching her again.

  “I’ve sold the house.”

  There was a smugness to her voice that made him smile. He kept his voice carefully neutral, saying, “Good deal?”

  “Yes, I think so.”

  Well, she thought wrong. She had accepted the first offer, which showed either that she wasn’t greedy or she wanted to leave Auckland as quickly as possible—with her fiancé at her side. He believed the latter.

  “Good for you,” he said. “I guess we can stop fighting over renovations now.”

  “I guess.” She turned smoothly round a corner and shifted into a higher gear.

  “So, are you going to open your own law firm now?”

  The car made a harsh jerk forward. “How do you know—”

  “You told me yourself.”

  “I told you about a startup.”

  “I just put two and two together.” Not touching her wasn’t an option. It was a physical pain—in his groin, in his heart. He let his fingertips wander over her bare shoulder, tugging at the thin shoulder strap that held her dress up. The strap slipped down to her upper arm, revealing more of her breasts.

  She flicked her hair, draped it over the other shoulder where he couldn’t touch it easily.

  He froze, staring at her exposed neck.

  “Stop bothering the driver,” she said, brushing his hand away like an annoying fly, and adjusted the strap.

  He reached out again, traced his finger over the mark on her neck, felt where his teeth had broken skin, remembered the taste of her skin, of her blood. He’d mated her, marked her, claimed her as his.

  He’d tried to forget as soon as it had happened.

  But the proof was right in front of his eyes, for him and the rest the world to see. Why the hell couldn’t she wear a scarf or something?

  Because it meant nothing to her, of course. She’d felt a bit of pain, most likely, but otherwise, the bite had no effect on her. She had no clue. And he’d find a way to prove to himself that he was above his primal instincts. After all, he was a man first, not a wolf. And as a man, he was able to make decisions based on logic. He wouldn’t let his wolfish instincts run his life.

  Not that it even mattered what he wanted.

  She still loved her fiancé—why else would she cry every time she had sex with him? She would forgive her fiancé his indiscretion, return home and get married.

  And he would do the sensible thing and marry Viv.

  He only needed to step back, control his inner wolf and let it happen.

  “Left or right at this junction?” she asked
. “Hello? Trent?”

  He hesitated for only a second. “Left,” he said, and let her drive on. When he had navigated away from the main street and down a narrow stretch of country road with just sheep as company, he said, “Stop here.”

  “Here?” she asked, casting a glance outside at the dark, deserted landscape. “That can’t be right.”

  “No, it isn’t right.” Nothing was right anymore, but by God, he needed her, needed to have her in his arms. Just one more time, and then he’d let go. He caught her confused gaze, held it until she understood.

  A ripple went through her, her face flushed.

  “One last time,” he said quietly, and reached out, stroked his finger lightly across her cheek. “It’s like welcome sex. But this time we say goodbye.”

  She looked at him, her golden-brown eyes searching his face. “Did you ever wonder,” she said quietly, “if there’s something more between us?”

  Did she worry that he would trail her footsteps like a lovesick puppy during the party? “No,” he said, the lie not coming easy.

  She nodded, another shiver running across her skin, but her eyes turned distant, cool.

  She leaned forward and slipped out of her shoes. Carefully, she hiked her dress up to her waist, tugged her panties down, placed them behind her on the driver’s seat. When she climbed from her seat onto his lap, he placed his hands around her waist, helped her settle on his thighs. She twisted in his lap, reached behind and opened the glove box to get a condom. Holding her head low so as not to bump into the car’s roof, she straddled him, her hands steady as she zipped open his pants.

  He couldn’t bite back a groan as she freed his hard cock, even though her touch was too indifferent, her hands cold. Slowly, she pumped him in her fist, her gaze locked on his face as if she wanted to see how her hands around his cock affected him. She didn’t tease. She gave him rough, steady strokes that almost made him come, but in his heart, he wanted something else, wanted more.

  There was no sparkle in her eyes, no easy smile on her lips. It was as if she’d withdrawn herself from him, and he missed her throaty moans, her vulnerability when she got caught up in pleasure. She was too goddamn efficient, he thought, watching how she rolled the condom over his cock with skilled hands but without emotion.

  Curling his hands around her hips, he sought her mouth. Her lips were cool and soft, and when he teased her with his tongue, with gentle nips of his teeth, she gave a moan in response. A shiver went through her and she turned her head so his mouth slid away from her lips and against her neck. His breath came harder as he grazed his teeth over the bare skin. His vision blurred, wavered. Her hands came around his shoulders and she leaned forward and lifted her weight from his lap.

  “Hold up my dress,” she said with a slight catch to her voice.

  Sliding her dress up, bunching it around her waist, he splayed his hands over her round ass. Slowly, she lowered herself onto him. His cock spread her pussy in one slick motion. He felt how her flesh tightened around his cock, how she wrapped around him in a hard embrace. Cold eyes, cold hands, he thought, but her cunt was hot and wet and ready, and more velvet heat wrapped around his cock as she took him deeper.

  His hands around her hips, he lifted her slightly, only to groan out as she drove her pussy deep on his cock again. Her fingers dug in his shoulders as she bucked her hips and started riding him. Slow at first, as if to savor every inch, then faster, harder. He let her be, watching how his cock drove in and out of her pussy, how her eyes closed, her brow crinkled and her lips parted. She was close, but his own release was closer, yet he waited, waited for her tight cunt to quiver and quake when she came around his cock.

  She fucked him harder, her movements growing less controlled, and with a low scream, she went limp under his hands. Her pussy spasmed around his cock, the flesh clinging to him so incredibly tightly. Holding her around her hips, he thrust up and deep into her trembling heat. He slammed into her, hard and fast, bringing a hoarse groan to her lips as he came.

  He could have stayed like this forever, with him inside her, in the sudden stillness of the truck. Her forehead leaned against his, her hands around his shoulders. Then she moved and the slight sob in her throat twisted his insides.

  Even now, he thought, she was still heartbroken. He might have her body, but not her heart. Lifting his hand, he brushed the tears away that rolled down her cheek. “Stop crying,” he said quietly. “I’m sure that after tonight, you’ll have your fiancé back.”

  Chapter Ten

  He’d broken up with her, saying goodbye in the same way he’d said hello—by fucking her. Always, it had been just sex between them—she was deranged to hope differently. But even her pride hadn’t stopped her from having him one last time.

  She had tried to focus only on her sexual needs, on the release her body craved, but failed badly. When he was inside her, her heart soared until she wanted to weep with joy. And later, when they were both spent, she cried because she feared she’d never again experience this feeling of completeness.

  She’d spared herself the embarrassment of admitting that she cried because of him, instead she’d climbed off his lap, dressed and asked him to drive the remaining distance to Linda’s party while she touched up her tear-streaked face in the truck’s mirror.

  Now, after he’d parked the truck and they both got wordlessly out the vehicle, she heard laughter and loud voices drifting toward her. They walked up a long driveway with masses of purple flowers on one side, which left the air overly sweet. A cat came mewling out of the flowerbed, rubbing itself around Trent’s leg and he stopped, stroking the purring cat between the ears.

  She sneezed.

  He looked up. “Shouldn’t you cover up more?” His gaze roamed her bare neck. “Need a scarf?”

  “It’s the cat.”

  “The cat? How so?”

  “Allergy,” she said, watching the cat purring for more attention, but he looked at her face, the cat seemingly forgotten. Yeah, kitty, don’t we all, she thought when the cat threw herself, belly up, before his feet.

  “The cat isn’t even close to you. How could you have an allergic reaction?”

  “Seeing one is enough,” she muttered, and continued walking up the driveway, ignoring his low laugh.

  She stopped to take in the modern, two-story house looming over her. It was an architectural dream, the exterior with too much glass and steel. Over the party noise, she heard the faint roaring of the sea.

  She dragged in a deep breath and put a hand against the door to steady herself. Why on earth had she thought it was a good idea to meet Simon here? What if she dissolved in tears, what if she pushed him out a window, what if she realized she still loved him and what if she didn’t? Her hands were shaking, nerves setting in, and she sought Trent’s gaze as if he could offer a solution. Which, of course, he couldn’t.

  “You okay?” His hand came against the small of her back.

  “Nervous,” she pressed through her teeth, telling herself to calm down, feeling how he stroked her hair away from her face with such gentleness, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and simply stay still for the rest of the night. “I’m not sure it was a good idea to tell him where to find me tonight.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he said, patted her butt and pressed the doorbell. “Have a drink, why don’t you?”

  It was such a male thing to say, she laughed, hearing him mutter that this was what he’d be doing, the tension inside her eased. She turned away from him when the door opened.

  Linda was clad in a silvery sequined dress, holding a fizzing drink in her hand and, at the sight of them, smiled broadly. “Great you could come. You too, McGregor. Todd was just talking about you. Just leave the door open. I almost missed the door ring.”

  Katherine smiled, wondering if Simon was already there, but probably not. Knowing him, he would prefer a late arrival to make sure she was already at the party.

  Linda took her by the hand and led her through a foye
r into a spacious room where the other guests were. Open windows let in a fresh breeze, and the view stretched over a small beach into the open sea. People chatted loudly, standing in groups or filling their plates from a buffet in the open, granite kitchen. The squashy couches at the other side of the room were empty but looked inviting.

  “Everyone, this is Katherine Miles, fresh in from New York, and almost everyone knows McGregor, right?” Linda introduced her matter-of-factly and linked her arm in Katherine’s.

  “Love your house,” she said to Linda, aware of the occasional glance from other guests.

  “Thanks, hon. Come on, we’ll get you a drink. Will your fiancé be able to make it?”

  “I’m pretty sure he will.” She followed Linda to the kitchen and gladly accepted the glass of chilled white wine. A blonde woman, carrying a glass of water, bumped into her and excused herself, staring at her almost shell-shocked.

  “You look gorgeous. Love the dress,” Linda said. “My job doesn’t call for high fashion, more for easy-to-wash apron. That’s why I have to throw parties. It’s purely egocentric. I need opportunities to show off my latest shopping spree. And Todd wants to network his lawyerly butt off.” Linda laughed. “He’s super stoked because his boss called this afternoon and practically invited himself to our party.”

  Katherine smiled absently. Simon had been surprised but accepted her simple reasoning that the world was small indeed. As long as I’ll see you, he’d said. Well, at least he made Linda’s husband happy. As for her, she’d know when she saw him.

  Sipping her wine, she cast a glance around, but Trent had seemingly vanished.

  “Looking for McGregor?” Linda asked quietly. “He’s over there.” Linda pointed with her wineglass.

  She followed the direction and froze. Trent lounged at the other side of the room, talking to a woman with blonde, curly hair. The same woman who had bumped into her just a moment ago. She was leggy, trim and had her arm wrapped around his shoulder. Next to his dark features, she looked positively radiant. They seemed comfortable, intimate and so heart-stoppingly perfect together, Katherine felt her breath slow. A pang of jealousy gripped her gut, so intense she felt the room spin for a second.