The playfully wolfish look was gone, replaced with need, undeniable and as uncontrollable as a forest fire. For a moment I could not look away from it. The shocking intensity drew me in, and held me in its fierce grip. I felt an answering call in the pit of my being. God, I wanted this man. I wanted to feel his body thrusting into me.
Then I remembered myself. What the fuck was I doing?
I smiled tightly and we began to walk toward the lift. There was a foot between us, but the sexual tension between us was so strong I felt it reach out and brush against me as if he was touching my skin. Inside the lift I stared straight ahead. Once, when I glanced sideways, I saw him staring at me. He looked almost perplexed.
He settled me in the car and I wanted to ask where we were going but I didn’t. Far more mysterious to be uncurious. Instead I turned my head and watched Londoners spilling out of restaurants and bars and enjoying the hot summer evening. I turned toward Miko.
‘How long will you be in London?’
‘Five days.’
‘Oh.’ I wanted him gone. I wanted to wreak my revenge and move on. Never see him again. So why did that information hurt a little?
The car came to a stop outside the elegant entrance of the Dorchester Hotel. The doorman greeted Miko by name. In the lobby we took a left turn and were inside the coolly pristine three Michelin starred Alain Ducasse at The Dorchester.
Attended by several waiters we were shown to and seated at the exquisitely beautiful and stunning table lumière. It was surrounded by four and a half thousand shimmering fiber optics, which dropped dramatically from the ceiling.
When the sommelier arrived and engaged Miko in conversation I gazed at him. Hardly anything of the boy I remember in jeans and black leather remained. He seemed so urbane and sophisticated.
Eventually the sommelier went away, the menus were whisked away, and Miko turned his entire attention to me. His eyes held a sort of challenge.
‘So,’ he said, his voice deep and low. ‘Tell me about you.’
I smiled, just a hint of conspiracy in my voice. ‘Wouldn’t that rob the mystery of our…dalliance?’
‘What makes you think of this as a dalliance?’
‘Something that is meant to last only five days could be classed as one.’
‘I have not put an expiration date on my desire for you.’
I shrugged carelessly and he frowned.
He reached forward and took my hand and again a tiny frisson of electricity shot up my arm. Instinctively, I drew back. He withdrew his hand and stared at me, his expression suddenly enigmatic. Slowly, I let my hand brush against the white tablecloth until it connected with his, then with my middle finger I began to caress the inside of his wrist. He reacted beautifully. His eyes flashed.
I blinked when his hand moved suddenly and caught my wrist in his. Gently he began to run his finger in circles on the inside of my wrist. I took a deep breath. Fuck, She magazine was right. It was an extremely erotic thing done properly.
‘Are you playing games with me, Lexi?’
Unable to speak I shook my head.
‘Because it very much looks like you are from where I am sitting.’
Instead of answering him, I let my toe run up the inside of his calf, delicately but suggestively.
As an answer he put his hand on my knee. My first reaction was unrehearsed and surprising. I parted my legs. Thank God, warm cheese and black pepper profiteroles arrived. I quickly busied myself with those. They were probably delicious, but tasted like sawdust in my mouth. I swallowed them down with a big mouthful of wine. I looked up and saw him watching me.
‘When were you in America?’ he asked.
‘A long time ago.’
‘Is there any reason you are being so evasive, Lexi?’
‘I’m not being evasive. It was a very long time ago and it was a…dull time.’
‘So you like it here?’
I took a sip of wine. ‘Yes, it’s nice.’
‘Would you ever like to go back to the States?’
‘Maybe.’
He leaned forward. ‘Why do I get the impression you don’t want to talk to me?’
I lifted my chin. ‘Let’s see how you like it when you are being interrogated.’
‘I wasn’t aware I was interrogating you.’
I just stared at him.
‘Go for it,’ he said and leaned back in his chair.
‘Have you always been rich?’
‘Yes. Do you hold that against me?’
‘No.’
‘Good. I can’t help being rich just as you can’t help being born in the family that you were born in.’ He threw in a devastatingly attractive smile. ‘I work eighty hours a week to earn my own keep. My father is not paying for this.’
I blushed with shame. Fortunately, the food arrived. I did not order a starter because I knew eating more than a tiny amount was impossible while wearing this dress. Miko too had refused a starter.
‘Bon appétit,’ Miko said, and I dug into my steak. Even though I was in turmoil I had to admit the black truffle sauce was excellent. It melted in my mouth.
‘Is your food good?’
‘Mmm…’ I nodded, keeping my eyes on his slow cooked shoulder of lamb.
He kept the conversation light during the meal and refused dessert when I did.
‘Not much of an appetite?’
I grinned. ‘Are you kidding? I’m starving. It’s this dress.’
His face changed. And I realized I had forgotten to be sophisticated. I quickly looked away.
‘Shall we have coffee upstairs?’ he asked.
‘Upstairs?’ There was an edge of panic in my voice.
‘I am in the Oliver Messel suite.’
‘Oh.’
~~~~~
Seven
Both of us were careful not to touch the other in the lift. I stared fixedly ahead. That ‘thing’ between us seemed to intensify in that confined space. My palms were sweating. Damn, I was in big trouble. My heart was pounding so hard I felt certain he must be able to hear it. It was a relief to get out.
The Oliver Messel suite was spacious and decorated in an English countryside style, made opulent with Italian gilt and bowls of freshly cut flowers. The floral curtains had been drawn closed and table lamps glowed with yellow light. I stepped onto the beige and pink carpet with trepidation.
‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said, and closing the door went to order the coffee.
Coffee arrived while I was in the bathroom, reapplying lip gloss with a shaking hand. My eyes seemed shiny and excited. I’ll just drink my coffee and go, I told my reflection.
He had removed his jacket and was sitting on a dusky green, long sofa. When I came in he rose to his feet and waited while I took my place on the sofa next to him. I perched a couple of feet away from him.
‘Shall I pour?’
I nodded. My mouth was dry and I felt the butterflies going crazy in my stomach. The last time my stomach had hosted butterflies in it was seven years ago. I watched the curve his body made as he leaned forward, and the way the muscles in his arms and shoulders stretched his shirt.
‘Sugar and milk,’ I said, and was surprised to hear my voice sound high and unnatural.
‘Biscuit?’ he asked.
I shook my head. ‘Same problem as before.’
His eyes lingered on my body and I suppressed the desire to cover myself.
He passed me my coffee and with his legs angled toward me leaned back. I was terrified the cup was going to rattle in the saucer, so I hastily put it down on the low table in front of us.
‘You shouldn’t wear such tight clothes if men looking at you makes you so uncomfortable.’ His black eyes were dancing with mischief.
I wriggled to the opposite edge of the sofa. ‘Most men don’t stare so hard or so long.’
‘British men are too polite to stare. Come back to America, sweetheart.’ There was laughter in his voice, but his eyes were undressing me with an inten
sity that was unnerving. He looked positively dangerous.
‘I… I should go soon,’ I stammered.
‘What’s the rush?’
‘It’s late.’
‘You’ve got two hours before everything turns to pumpkin, rats and rags.’
‘I’m not really sure what you want from me.’
‘Forgive me,’ he mocked, ‘if I have not been clear enough. I want to take you to bed, Lexi.’
I wanted him to take me to bed too. ‘Miko.’
‘Lexi?’ he teased, his eyebrows raised innocently, sensuality shimmering in the black wells of his eyes.
I stared at the pink swirls in the carpet and drew in a deep, cleansing breath. This was turning out to be a total disaster. The plan had been to seduce him and then leave him high and dry. How on earth had I imagined I could seduce a man like him? It had been a particularly ill-conceived idea of mine. Actually, make that the most moronic idea I had ever come with. This must have been the worst seduction scene in history.
I rose up suddenly. ‘I think it’s time I was going.’
He moved so fast I let out a yelp when his hand closed on my wrist and yanked me in his direction. I blinked up at him, as I lay sprawled across his length. His jaw looked as if it was carved from granite. I had a vision of running kisses along its symmetrical beauty.
My gaze travelled along the cut cheekbones, angled high almost like a woman’s but too harsh to be feminine, to meet his boldly assessing eyes. I brought my hands up and putting them on his chest pushed, but what happened was nothing. His chest was like a stone slab and the hands that trapped me were like steel manacles.
‘Running scared, Lexi?’
My heart was a caged bird in my chest. ‘I’m not scared. I’m not sure we want the same things.’
‘What do you want?’
‘Right now? I want you to let me go,’ I muttered, with as much dignity as I could.
‘I don’t believe in playing around. If I want something I take it. Unless you show me you don’t want me I’m going to take you.’
‘Very confident, aren’t you?’
‘Very,’ he murmured, and pulled me along his body so I was lying directly on top of his hot, thick erection. I gasped, liquid fire rushing through my body. God, I seriously wanted this man. I actually longed, no ached to strip his clothes off and have him surge hard and fast inside me. At that moment nothing seemed more important than the burning desire that had been lit inside me when I ran into his chest that morning in the coffee shop.
I opened my mouth to say something, no doubt something stupid, so it was a good thing that the man moved forward and covered my mouth with a soul-searing kiss. It was so raw with need that I just about managed to cling to his hard shoulders. Vaguely I heard the sound of a zip. My tongue was caught, stroked, pulled into the warm cave of his mouth and sucked.
Vaguely, I noted my dress coming off me. The dress was so tight there had been no need for a bra and my breasts sprang loose. They felt swollen and heavy. His eyes blazed possessively at the sight of my body nude, but for a red scrap of lace and silk.
He cupped a breast, felt its weight in his hand, then expertly rolled a hard nipple back and forth between his smooth fingers. My body arched. He groaned low—the sound was erotic—and sucked my lower lip. Hard. I shivered helplessly and moaned.
‘You taste like a slice of heaven,’ he murmured.
Strong large hands were spreading my thighs apart so my clit was rubbing against his clothed shaft. I began to move my hips, desperate and seeking. I pushed my aching centre down hard and it felt so damn good I writhed and whimpered like an animal.
‘Mmm…’ Was that me? God yes.
‘Ahhhh.’ That was me too.
I had never felt this way before. Lost to everything except Miko. My fingers slipped into his unbuttoned shirt and, underneath, Miko was satin smooth and warm. My sensitized body felt hot and wild, and strangely out of control. Every nerve, every cell screamed out for him to take me.
I felt his fingers slip into my panties and I growled. Juices flowed over his fingers. The heat and hunger I felt were so strong I felt as if I was in the sea being carried away by powerful currents and the only thing that kept me from being lost was Miko. Nothing else mattered but him. My only reality.
I tore at his handmade shirt, the buttons pinging. He looked surprised. His chest and abs were magnificent. They were how I had dreamed them. I spread my palms over the broad, strong chest. My fingers looked very pale nestled in his chest hair. The sight of it did something to me. A gust of daring blew through me: I abandoned myself to it. Bending my head, I bit his nipple. He drew in his breath sharply but he did not stop me.
‘Oh yes, Lexi. Oh yes,’ he encouraged instead.
I flicked it with my tongue and followed the line of hair. As I curled my body I felt his finger thrust into me. I sucked in a startled breath. I began to unbutton his belt. My fingers were frantic. Later, I would be shocked. At that moment I just wanted him deep inside me. All I could think of was the lust I felt for him. I felt as if I was only half and I needed him to fill me. I knew he could give me something no other man could. I knew the satisfaction I would get from him would put every other experience I had had into the shade. His fingers moved in and out of me, maddening me. I unzipped his trousers.
He had a beautiful cock: satin smooth skin, large, thick, rock hard. Simply majestic. I couldn’t wait to have it inside me. I gripped him by the base. A groan rumbled in his chest.
‘God! You’re so beautiful,’ he whispered.
The effect of his words was like a bucket of cold water in my heated face. I froze as if he had whipped me,
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, frowning.
‘Nothing,’ I croaked, and because his hold and his attention were distracted I jumped off him and, covering the nakedness of my breasts as if I was some sort of terrified virgin, I picked my dress off the floor and clutched it against my body.
‘What the fuck?’ I heard him swear. ‘What are you doing, Lexi?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said and heard him draw a harsh breath.
He looked at me incredulously as I walked backward and away from him. There was no way I was exposing my bum to his narrowed gaze. When I got to the door I slipped out of sight behind the wall, ran to the bathroom and locked myself in it. I was breathing hard. I got back into my crumpled dress and zipped it up quickly. My face was flushed, my mouth in the mirror was full and swollen with the intensity of his kisses, and my eyes were a smoky shade of green. And yet, I looked not wanton, but…sad.
What a mess I had made of it. To have even imagined that I of all people could seduce him then leave him high and dry as punishment? If it weren’t so pathetic it would be laughable. It would have worked if you were not in love with him. I stopped suddenly. I’m not in love with him. I turned away from the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair, smoothed it into some sort of order, splashed my face with cold water and then I exited the bathroom.
As soon as I came out of the bathroom I saw him standing by the sideboard clenching a glass of some amber liquid in his hand. He was holding it so hard his knuckles were white. He smiled, but it was empty. His pants were done up but his shirt was unbuttoned making the glistening power-packed muscles on his chest stand out even more.
I swallowed hard. Even at a time like this I could not help but notice that the man had a body to die for. He took a swig from his glass and stared at me. His eyes were purposely blank. If he was frustrated he was taking great pains not to show it.
‘I should go,’ I said awkwardly.
‘What’s up, Lexi?’ His voice was level and deliberately neutral. There was nothing in it to suggest anger or even a trace of the earlier passion.
I shook my head miserably. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing? Why do you keep blowing hot and cold?’
‘I’m really sorry.’
‘For what?’ he asked sharply.
My hands floated up. ‘For a
llowing things to get as far as they did.’
‘I thought you were enjoying yourself.’
I bit my lower lip and felt the heat racing up into my cheeks. No point lying. ‘I was.’
‘So why did you stop?’ he asked softly.
I shrugged. ‘It was all too fast. Too soon.’
He gave a pained frown. ‘I see.’
‘I’m really sorry.’
‘Are you?’
‘Yes.’ I felt a clenching in my chest as I acknowledged the truth: I was truly sorry I had ever started on this revenge trip. It was obvious now that the only person who was going to get hurt was me. He just wanted to have sex with me. Even now that I had thwarted him he was behaving impeccably. A man like this would never fall in love with me. I was the one who was in danger of falling for him.
‘All right. Prove it,’ he challenged.
‘What?’
‘Prove that you’re really sorry?’
I glared at him suspiciously. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Join me tomorrow evening.’
I frown. ‘What for?’
‘There is a party I have to be at.’
‘Why me? There must be hundreds of women who would be only too happy to go with you.’
‘I want to go with you.’ There was no sarcasm in his eyes or his voice. He said it so sincerely that I stared at him in a daze.
‘Even if we don’t end up in bed?’
He sighed. ‘Even if.’
I took a deep breath. I did not understand him and maybe I did not even understand me. ‘All right,’ I agreed stiltedly.
‘Thank you.’ He smiled rather sadly. ‘This suite comes with a chauffeur. I’ve arranged for your ride home.’
‘Thank you,’ I murmured. I’d had visions of standing outside in my crumpled dress waiting for a taxi.
‘I’ll walk you down,’ he said, buttoning his shirt.
And so we went down to the foyer, both of us never touching each other, and yet intensely aware of the other.
‘I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight.’
‘See you tomorrow then.’
‘Goodnight, Lexi.’
~~~~~
Pretty Wicked Page 4