by R. M. Sotera
Calm down. She semirelaxed and kept her attention zeroed in on the front door. Cindi would never put her in harm’s way, ever. There was no logical reason to be frightened about a party, even if it was in the psychic capital of the world. What could possibly happen that her best friend, aka badass Vera Cruz, couldn’t handle?
One knock later, the door opened onto the goddess Aphrodite incarnate.
If it weren’t for Cindi’s sudden death grip on her arm, no doubt Mia would have excused herself from the scene and hauled ass back to the car. During the greetings, Cindi muttered something about the two of them being from the Ravenfield Sanction. Then Cindi shot a quick, sharp look at Mia, the one that told her to shut her mouth, or else. So, she wants me to be silent. No problem. But what the hell is a Ravenfield Sanction?
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They followed their hostess with the mostess, through a massive foyer, to another room. A touch of Victorian flair decorated the room.
Cindi motioned to the bar and walked over to it like she owned it, the spiky tips of her magenta hair swaying as she moved.
“I see you found your favorite item of furniture,” Mia joked.
Cindi smirked. “Of course. If there is liquor, I always find it. You know me.”
She returned to the sofa where Mia had gone to sit, with two full glasses of burgundy.
“So this is some evening so far.” Cindi brought the rather-expensive-looking glass up to her mouth and took a hearty sip. “What do you think?”
Mia sighed, not sure how to reply. Some evening. Not quite the words I was thinking. Mysterious and odd, now that would be a closer description of the evening thus far.
“I hope it is all you ladies wished for and more,” a low, raspy voice interceded.
Startled, both women focused on an overstuffed recliner in the opposite corner. Slowly, the chair turned until a flaxen-haired stranger faced them. He somehow looked familiar.
This was when Mia’s life changed forever.
The man stroked his hands along the armrests, slow and easy, with a sexy grin. She sucked in a quiet breath as his smile spread and he slid his hands to his thighs, splaying his fingers against his groin. The movements drew attention to the impressive bulge at the juncture of his legs. Damn.
Just a wink from Mr. Sexpot, and her stomach fluttered. Holy Mary, Mother of God…pray for this sinner. Me.
Lord, have mercy. Mia couldn’t look away from him if she tried.
Nor could she rip her eyes from the glimmering studded diamond pushed through his nostril, or the small silver hoops in his ears. The man overdosed in pure sex appeal.
“What’s the matter, pretty lady? Cat got your tongue?” he asked.
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Cat got her tongue? Understatement. How about her entire body?
Embarrassed by his correct assessment, she pinned him with a stare. It was all she could muster. She hoped it was a good one. For a woman who taught voice control to budding actors on a daily basis, she should give herself a big F.
The self-professed best-friend protector slid toward Mia, blocking his view. “We’re having a great time. Thanks. And who are you?” Cindi asked, before Mia could even form a sound. The words teetered on her tongue, and that was about it.
He cocked an eyebrow, obviously not enjoying Cindi’s interference. “I wasn’t talking to you.” Oh, I wouldn’t have said that, Mr. Sexy.
Cindi’s lips curved into a precarious smirk, obviously overwhelmed by the man’s brazenness. And suddenly, best bud appeared at a loss for words.
“Oh, I get it. Your friend is deaf. Sorry, but I don’t know much sign language. If you have a piece of paper, I can write my part of our conversation down for her.” As if he were the hottest man on this side of the world, he leaned forward, placing both elbows on the armrests, puckered his lips, and blew Mia a kiss. The way his lips moved and his body swayed was sinful.
You arrogant, sexy asshole. Aghast at his obvious flirting strategies, Mia gave him a silent tongue-lashing. He was the type of man her Catholic mother warned her about. He was scary, seductive, and probably to die for. Mia’s strange infatuation turned incensed.
She had the urge to throw heavy equipment at him, but instead her voice decided to make an appearance. Yippie for small favors.
“I’m not deaf. You just caught me off guard. I didn’t realize anyone else was in the room with us.”
“Exactly,” Cindi chimed in.
“Mmm… What else did I catch off guard?” His gaze traveled over her body not once, but twice. “Well? Are you having a good time darlin’?”
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Mia lost the simple function of speech again. But from Cindi’s expression, she hadn’t lost hers.
“To answer your first question a second time, we’re having a marvelous evening. I’m Cindi, and this is my best friend Mia. We’re from the Ravenfield Sanction.”
The hells angel tilted his head in a surveying gesture, one that looked like he was getting ready to bite into a nice juicy steak instead of a future introduction.
Mia wanted to gag, twice, even though a part of her found him strangely charming. He continued to gaze at her as if she were part of his menu. More shocking, a part of her desired to be. The part of her labeled “good woman” itched to turn Catholic-woman-gone-wild tonight.
“I’m Jordan, with the Stiletto Sanction. It’s nice to meet the two of you.” Before Mia could silently comment in her head, he had moved out of the chair and taken a seat between them. “So, was your drive here a pleasant one, Mia?”
“It was an interesting drive, I mean, learning about the psychic town stuff.” Mia replied a little faster then she anticipated the words.
The description of “stumbling idiot” took on an entirely new meaning with him in such close proximity.
“Psychics aren’t your cup of tea?” His wry laugh filled the room.
Mia forgot her train of thought, due to a random fixation with the diamond in his nostril. Uncomfortable, she glanced away. “It’s not that. I just don’t know a lot about their way of life.” Whom was she kidding? She didn’t know a single solitary thing about their lifestyle.
Catholic girls don’t go there.
“Do alternative lifestyles scare you, darlin’?” He continued to assess her with an intenseness that should have warned her to walk away from him, but somehow, she couldn’t, because he was much too fascinating.
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What about him was so interesting? One minute she wanted to level him with large objects, and the next she wanted to sit with him, answering every question he proposed.
Cindi tapped her finger on her thigh, a sign she was slightly perturbed by the bad boy and his odd questions. “Jordan, would you like me to pour you a glass of wine?”
He turned his attention to her for a moment. “As long as you’re offering, that would be great.”
“Great, let me grab you a glass.” With her attention never diverting from Jordan or Mia for too long, she buzzed over to the bar, returned, and handed Jordan the vino. The entire act seemed as if it was completed before Mia blinked.
“Thanks, Cindi.”
So he has manners. Even though Mia tried not to stare at his full lips, she couldn’t help herself. They were really nice. Soft and kissable. Snap out of it!
After placing the wine on the floor next to him, Jordan stretched out his arms against the back of the sofa. With a mischievous grin, he rolled his hips before relaxing back into the red folds, casually slipping a hand on Mia’s thigh.
Oh my God, Mary and Joseph! Heat pulsated from his massaging fingertips through the denim of her skirt. She took a sip of wine, attempting to harness her overactive sweat glands, yet she couldn’t seem to turn away from his light-gray-colored gaze.
“You’re staring at me.”
Yes, she was. Cindi shook her head while Mia guzzled more wine.
“Do you want to kiss me, darlin’?”
Hell yes. No. I mean no, I don’t. Someone would think she’d never kisse
d a man before, the way the inside of her mouth salivated.
She thought back to her last kiss from Jamison. No wonder she was acting like a cat in heat. Kissing her boss was a mistake, but one that she would probably commit again if he pushed her up against the wall and put his lips on hers as he did in the theater on Monday. All she 52
had wanted to do was hang tryout sheets for the upcoming production of Chicago for her drama class, but instead she had enjoyed the head of the English department ravishing her in the middle of the school day.
Cindi burst out with an uneasy laugh. “Easy, fella.” A sly grin lifted Jordan’s lips before his booted foot touched the side of Mia’s shoe. “Well?” A low, almost-inaudible growl left his throat. “Come on, woman, you know you want to.” Common sense told her to keep her ass in the seat, but she stood anyway. She should have realized being slightly buzzed and standing up would make things worse, but she wasn’t one to listen to her own intuition. “No. I need to go.”
“Go where?” Jordan and Cindi questioned.
“To the restroom.”
Jordan cocked his head. Strands of hair touched his cheek, and he interceded. “I’ll take you to the restroom. I promise I won’t molest you unless you beg me to.”
The way his black leather pants clung to his legs made Mia want to squeeze him so badly that she clenched her hands into fists. Oh, no you won’t. I am perfectly capable of stumbling down the hall by myself. “I don’t need your assistance. Just tell me the direction.” She cut him a sharp look that dared him to argue.
Taking her cue or pacifying her whim, he let her win. “Fine, go out the door and down the hall to the stairs. The restroom is the second door on the right.”
In a tipsy panic, she started across the room. Halfway, she turned back, remembering she was a lady and should act like one. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweet thing. But if you’re not back in two minutes, I’m sending the cavalry in after you. Which, if you haven’t guessed, is me.”
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Chapter Two
Inside the large bathroom, Mia plopped down in a black velvet chair. Her goal was to relax her jumbled mind, but images of the sexy hunk in black complicated matters. She was still trying to get over the disaster date with Jamison a few nights ago, and honestly, that had been taking up most of her mind roulette.
Cavalry.
After prepping in front of the mirror, she headed out of the bathroom and ran headfirst into what felt like a brick wall. “Ouch!” It wasn’t a wall, but her leather-clad dream man.
In sheer embarrassment, she jumped back, only to have a firm hand grab hold of her. “Mia? Are you hurt?” Stupefied, she shook her head.
“It’s me, Jordan. You know. The man of your dreams.” She knew who he was. Idiot! He didn’t need to inform her of that little piece of advice. How about stuck-up man of my dreams! “I know who you are. You just scared me,” she mumbled, and pulled away from him.
Wrong move. A spinning room does not equal feeling good. She teetered, then placed her arms out to her sides for balance. Control teetered until he snatched her back against him, then tightened his hold. “Scared you, huh. Why don’t you let the big, bad wolf give you a hand, sweet thing?”
“Stop doing that.” She brushed his hands away, but he kept his hold. Every nerve in her body was on betrayal, and suddenly they all ached for him. Every instinct cried for her to swing her arms around his neck and pull him against her. “You’re making me dizzy, Jordan.” 54
“I do have that effect on women.”
Conceited ass. “I’m sure you do.”
“It’s that obvious, is it?”
She ignored the question. The last thing he needed was for her answer to add to his already-conceited demeanor. “I just felt a little off-kilter from the wine, and sat down for a bit.” She stopped fidgeting and glanced up into his vibrant gaze. Her heart pounded fast against her rib cage. Even though she squirmed, he refused to unhand her.
Stepping closer, he placed his hands against the small of her back.
A pretend attempt at acting crestfallen tipped his features. “I take it, babe, from all the fidgeting you’re doing, that you’d prefer I let you go?”
“That would be great.” Liar!
“Mmmm, let me think about it. No.”
His seductiveness sent sparks of heat through her body. Part of her wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and plant her lips against his mouth, but the other part wanted to knock his teeth down his throat.
Her face warmed again. “What?” she stammered, realizing what he had replied.
“I don’t think I want to let you go. Can you handle that?” he whispered.
Oh, you’re just too cocky. And I feel sick.
Small beads of sweat accumulated in every crevice of her hungry flesh. She desired his touch. In some unexplainable way, she longed for it. Touch me, please.
“Say something, Mia. You look like you’re going to faint.” He was right. The room was beginning to spin, making her head feel lighter by the minute. “I’m fine.” His face moved out of focus before a chuckle sounded through the fog-induced haze in her head. “Actually, babe, why don’t you faint?
That way I can give you mouth-to-mouth.”
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She needed to sit down before the evitable fall down came. With the room spinning, she was sure to be sick soon. Very soon.
Muttered voices sounded down the hall. She turned for a moment toward the hum, then back at him. With a stoic look, he released her but stood close enough to pull her back into an embrace. “I’m only joking, sweet thing. Come on, I’ll take you back to the party.”
“Thank you. Even the big, bad wolf gave Little Red Riding Hood a reprieve.”
“Touché.”
Relieved the spinning stopped, her demeanor softened. “Thanks, Jordan. Getting sick on you would have been the height of embarrassment for me.”
“No problem, Mia. Let’s go.” He stopped midstep. “Actually, if you tossed your cookies on me, rather us, we could have showered together. I’d make sure to remove every piece of vomit from your”—
his gaze traveled up and down her frame—“beautiful body.” Oh boy! He was saying all the right things for a stuck-up jerk.
“That’s nice.” The prospect of sharing such an intimate, personal act freaked her. But on further reflection, heat coursed through her body from the mere thought of him naked. She felt her tongue touch her lips just as the image of his naked chest flashed through her mind.
There was no doubt hell would be her final resting place.
* * * *
Walking back down the dimly lit corridor, Jordan slipped his hand into hers. Surprisingly to him, she didn’t resist his bold advance or glances. Familiar? No, it couldn’t be the woman who flashed into the doorway at Firestone last night.
She wasn’t his usual personality type, but something about her captivated him. Her brown hair pulled together near the top of her head. Loose strands touched her slender neck and flushed cheeks. Big brown eyes stayed focused straight ahead, occasionally glimpsing the 56
artwork along the way. A cuteness cocooned her. She had curves in all the right places—a delectable hourglass figure, a body made for sin. With him.
The idea of her naivety and corrupting her innocence made his blood boil. He wanted to skim his hands over her clothed breasts, feel her fingers slide around the top of his jeans, grasp the material, unbutton and unzip them. A shudder ran through his body as he fantasized her kneeling on the floor, taking the head of his cock into her mouth.
God, you’re beautiful. You’d look great permanently manacled to my bed. No, no. You’d be good as permanent arm candy. Something strange brewed inside him. Permanent? Do I really want something more? He sighed before his gaze searched for hers. Look at me, woman.
She stopped her pretend studying of the wallpaper. Appearing bothered, she cocked her head to study him. “Don’t stare at me like that.”
Exhibiting a
little bit of authority my way, are we? I like it. He stepped into her private space and drew her to him. “By the way, that wasn’t nice. I can stare at you if I want to. Trust me, darlin’, I want to.”
He had no other choice but to crush his mouth against hers without a whimper from her.
At first, her body tensed, and she palmed his chest. Her petite fingers clasped his shirt as she pushed. Damn, usually the women were tearing my clothes off by this point in the evening. Laughing, he tightened his embrace. The aroma of her skin caressed his senses, reminding him of wild berries. Beyond ready to taste every inch of her, he stroked his tongue across her lips, and she clamped her mouth shut.
Seriously? He chuckled. “Open up, darlin’.”
“No,” she breathed against his mouth.
“So, is this going to be our first disagreement, Mia?”
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Abruptly, she pulled away, leveling him with a look that made him want to climb up one side and down the other of her clothed frame. “What are you talking about?”
Cupping her cheeks, he pulled her close again and whispered,
“Stop fighting me, and let me kiss you the way you deserve to be kissed.”
She looked like she wanted to run, then the look of panic dissolved to one of surrender, and she snuggled closer. When her eyelids fluttered closed, he pushed his tongue into her mouth. Good girl.
To his surprise, she pulled him more rapidly against her, breathed in deep, and then her head fell backward and her body went limp. You have got to be kidding me.
“Mia?” He touched the palm of his hand to her lips to make sure she still breathed. The woman had fainted. “I got you.” Chuckling, he swept her up into his arms and moved down the hallway.