Werewolf in Las Vegas

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Chapter 15

  Human males, Giselle concluded, or at least this particular human male, seemed to enjoy the element of surprise when it came to sex. She’d never been plopped down on a counter and told to watch in the mirror while her partner did her. She had to admit it added quite a bit to the experience.

  It became especially erotic when he hooked his arms under her knees to lift and spread her thighs. Arms braced behind her, she could glance to the side for a full view of his cock sliding back and forth in long, measured strokes. She could admire the way his tight buns flexed with each thrust.

  He watched, too, and met her gaze in the mirror. “Beautiful,” he murmured. “I love how smoothly we come together. No rush. Just an easy rhythm.”

  “But my heart’s going like a bongo.”

  “Mine, too. But let’s see how long we can keep it slow, build up to it.”

  She swallowed. “All right.” But she didn’t think she’d last much longer. Every time he pushed home, she felt a zing. It got stronger with every forward motion of his hips. “But I should warn you that I’m . . .” She moaned as he rocked into her and made direct contact with her clit.

  “Ah, hell. Forget slow. I want it too much.” He pumped faster. “That’s good. Open a little more. Like that. Oh, yeah. Come for me, Giselle. I want to watch you come.”

  She gasped as the first wave hit. Abandoning the mirror, she arched forward as he pounded into her and took her up, up, and even higher. With a cry, she came apart.

  He rode her climax to his own, his body shuddering as he drove home. His breathing ragged, he lowered her legs to the counter and placed a soft kiss on her mouth. Then he closed his eyes and bowed his head. “Thank you. Thank you for indulging me.”

  She smiled at the sweetness of that comment. He really was a nice guy. Sexy, too. “Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.”

  His head came up, and his blue eyes shone with an emotion that struck fear into her heart. “Careful. I might take you up on that.”

  She considered explaining that it was only an expression, an offhand remark that didn’t mean quite what it sounded like. But then she’d spoil the moment, and she couldn’t bear to do that. He couldn’t be blamed for thinking what they’d found together could go on.

  No, she was the one with all the info on that, and she felt guilty as hell. What if he fell in love with her? Or thought he had? She’d have to leave him, and without a decent explanation, too. What if she broke his heart?

  She cupped his face in both hands. His chin was slightly prickly where his beard had started to grow. “I really have to go back to San Francisco when this is over.”

  “I understand. You’re an important part of the Landry operation. I’m an important part of the Dalton operation. But this is the twenty-first century. We have such things as telecommuting and direct flights from here to there. Geography isn’t the barrier it used to be. And for what it’s worth, I don’t give a damn if you can have kids or not.”

  Her heart wept. Sure enough, he’d been building castles in the air. She searched for an argument that would make sense, because she certainly couldn’t tell him the truth.

  Learning that he’d been having cozy sex with a werewolf would likely send him screaming in the other direction. Although that would accomplish what she needed, he’d be a pack security risk. He’d be monitored twenty-four-seven, no matter how fervently he promised not to expose their secret. Life as he knew it would be forever altered.

  This was why she’d stayed away from having sex with a human male. The potential problems weren’t worth the risk. She took a deep breath. “Luke, I—”

  “You know what? Forget all that. Don’t mind me. I’m letting good sex convince me we’ve found this grand passion. I’m overreacting.”

  She hoped he was right about that. It would make the rest of her time with him much easier. “Even so, maybe we shouldn’t keep having sex. I didn’t realize it would be such an unusual treat for you.” And that was another mistake she’d made. She should have let him wear a condom. She’d assumed he’d experienced that before in a long-term relationship and hadn’t realized it would be such a big deal.

  In the heat of the moment, she’d spoken without thinking, rejecting the use of something that was so foreign to her concept of sex. But hindsight told her that had been a tactical error.

  “No, please. Don’t let my idiotic thoughts louse up a good thing. Just forget what I said.”

  She gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. Maybe she’d break her own heart in the process of breaking his. “I don’t know if I can forget it.”

  “Bet I can make you.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Come into my shower, little girl. By the time I’m through with you, you won’t even remember your own name.”

  “That’s tempting, but I still think—”

  “I need you to help me figure out what’s going on with Cynthia. And you need me, because once we get Cynthia to the bargaining table, you can have a heart-to-heart with your brother.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So we’re going to be hanging out with each other anyway, and after the incredible sex we’ve had so far, I don’t think we can dial it back to platonic, do you?”

  “Maybe not.” Much as she thought that would be for the best, she couldn’t picture it. They’d crossed the line, and there was no going back.

  “We agreed to a temporary situation, and I’m the one who screwed up by suggesting something different. So erase that from your mind. I’m all about temporary. I promise.”

  She was caught in a trap of her own making. He might be able to keep his heart out of it now that he’d declared their relationship strictly sexual. She wouldn’t bet on it. She wouldn’t bet on her ability to do that, either.

  But if she rejected the olive branch and insisted on keeping him at arm’s length until this episode was over, that would be torture of a different kind. She wasn’t convinced either of them could maintain their distance from each other.

  “What do you say, Landry? Ready to hit the showers?”

  She leaned forward and kissed him. “Yeah,” she murmured. “Show me your jets.”

  • • •

  He’d damn near blown it, but maybe he’d managed a last-minute save. Painful though it was to think about, she might not be into him the way he was into her.

  After lifting her off the counter, he took her hand and led her toward the large walk-in shower. “Wait here. Let me get the temperature right. How do you like your jets?”

  She laughed. “Rhythmic.”

  “I’ll set it for that, but I meant the temp.”

  “Warm, not hot. Don’t want to scald anything important.”

  “Right.” He was encouraged by the way she’d entered into the spirit of the shower experience. Maybe he hadn’t ruined everything, after all. Yeah, he wished she’d responded differently to his suggestion they could take this to the next level.

  But she hadn’t. He needed to accept that and move on. He’d been granted a reprieve, because she could just as easily have decided to sleep in the guest bedroom and let him go hang. She obviously didn’t want a pushy guy with hopes for the future.

  So he wouldn’t be that guy. As he stuck his hand under the closest jet to test the temperature, he mapped out his game plan. He would enjoy the gift of Giselle to the fullest. And he would give as good as he got.

  She probably wouldn’t change her mind about him, and he wouldn’t expect that. He wasn’t campaigning to win her hand, for God’s sake. He had some pride. But if, at the end of their time together, she had weakened on her stated position, he’d be there.

  Because he didn’t think it was the bareback sex or the unusual nature of their meeting that had created this spark between them. Whether she acknowledged it or not, he believed they had something special going on here. He wouldn’t mention it again—God, no—but
he would watch, and wait, and hope that eventually she’d see that they were meant to be.

  In the meantime, though, he had a killer shower and she was going to leave it totally wrung out, or his name wasn’t Luke Dalton. The counter sex had sidelined him for a while, but the jets could fill in for him until he was ready to rock and roll.

  Females were amazing creatures, and he envied them their multiorgasmic capabilities. He had to pace himself, but they didn’t. Oh, sooner or later they’d call a halt, but their staying capacity was way beyond his. When he was looking at a limited time with a hot woman, he regretted his longer recovery time.

  “It’s ready.” He glanced over at her. “Are you?”

  She laughed. “I don’t know. I’ve never had the multijet experience before. Will I overload on pleasure?”

  “I hope so.” He held out his hand. “That’s my goal.”

  “Mmm.” She gazed at him with those emerald-green eyes. “And you’re a goal-oriented person, just like your sister, so I’d better watch out. You make this shower sound like the setting for an orgy.”

  “A two-person orgy would be a good description.”

  “You’ve done this before?”

  He shook his head. “I told you that I haven’t brought a woman up here until tonight.”

  “So how do you know so much about the shower? Have you been having a little solo fun in there?”

  He didn’t usually admit such things to a sexual partner, but Giselle invited honesty. “Maybe a time or two. But my equipment is decidedly different from yours. What I have in mind for you is a product of my imagination.”

  Heat blazed in her green eyes. “You’ve certainly fired up mine.”

  He gestured toward the walk-in marble enclosure, complete with a built-in marble bench. The water beat a steady tattoo against the creamy walls. “After you.”

  She stepped into the spray, raised her arms, closed her eyes, and turned in a slow circle. “Ah. Wonderful. No more sticky chocolate.” Arching her neck, she let the pelting water sluice through her hair until it hung in a slick curtain down her back.

  Luke swallowed a moan of longing. He’d heard of mythical water nymphs, and now he knew what they must look like. The high-intensity lights in the ceiling created rainbows in the mist and turned the rivulets of water sliding over her body to ribbons of silver. He’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. He ached to have her, and sex was only part of it. He’d always wondered if he’d know when the right one came along. Well, fate hadn’t been kind to him. The right one didn’t want him for the long haul. That wasn’t fair, but he’d have to suck it up and deal.

  In the meantime, she was here, standing in his shower, and he had pleasure to provide. “Keep your eyes closed. Let me give you a tactile tour of the place.”

  She laughed. “Okay.”

  “Hold out your hand.”

  She stretched out her right hand. So graceful, that hand. She had apricot polish on her toes, but her fingernails were bare. No rings, either. She was unfettered and seemed to like it that way.

  He grasped her right hand with his, like a handshake, and slipped his other arm around her slick shoulders. “This way.” He guided her gently toward a spot where the jet was about crotch high—hers, not his. Water spattered on them from all sides as they moved across the marble floor, which was subtly ridged for safety.

  “This feels like one of those trust games, where you’re blindfolded and let your partner lead you around.”

  “Mmm, blindfolds. Kinky.” His balls tightened. “Want to try that after we dry off?”

  “After the way you described this shower experience, I might need a nap afterward.”

  “It’s possible.” He rebelled at that idea, and then his conscience pricked him. Just because he didn’t want to sleep while they had a chance to be alone didn’t mean she felt the same. “Okay, stop here, and turn this way.” He edged her around until she faced the jet from about two feet away.

  “Oh.” She trembled as the water beat firmly against the tops of her thighs. “I think I get this idea already.”

  “Move up a little and spread your feet apart.” He lifted her hand to the moist wall. “Brace yourself with your hands on the wall.”

  “Oh, Luke. If you let this secret out . . .” She groaned and stepped a little closer.

  That’s when he realized that two side jets were also stimulating her nipples. He hadn’t figured out that would happen. Bonus. He really didn’t have to do a thing. He could stand back and watch the jets do their work.

  But that was no fun. Dropping to his knees behind her, he nuzzled her firm backside.

  She gasped. “Luke, no.”

  “Easy.” With her enthusiasm for sex, he was surprised she seemed to be resistant to doggie style. “Just let me touch you. You’re so pretty back here.” Kissing her smooth cheek, he felt her quivering response.

  Maybe she only needed a little coaxing, and since she was breathing quickly, nearing her first climax, now would be the time. As he slipped two fingers into her moist channel, her spasms began. She surrendered to her climax with a wail as he used quick strokes to heighten the sensation of the jets. Her cries echoed against the walls of the shower.

  Her contractions subsided for a brief moment, and then he felt her tighten around him again. She moaned and pushed against the motion of his fingers. Her hips lifted, inviting him deeper. She wanted this, wanted more than this.

  His cock swelled in response. Standing, he grasped her hips. With one firm thrust, he sank deep. When he was buried up to the hilt, primitive instinct took over and he went a little crazy.

  The rapid slap of his thighs against hers beat in rhythm to the staccato sounds of their breathing, their groans, and finally, a climax that found them both at the same moment. She was loud, but he was louder, yelling at the top of his lungs, wild with the glory of it.

  They stayed coupled together as the jets beat all around them. Luke had thought he’d experienced sex with Giselle before, but he hadn’t touched the very core of her until now.

  She dragged in a breath and uttered one soft word. “Enough.”

  He understood. Sliding his hand around her body, he cupped her mound, shielding it from the jet. Then he wrapped his other arm under her breasts as he slowly eased his cock free.

  Although he was a little shaky, he called on his iron will. Turning her limp body around, he lifted her and carried her out of the shower. She would hate it if he put her back in that sticky bed, but the comforter was lying in a heap at the foot of it.

  When he laid her down on it, she made a sound of protest.

  “It’s fine.” Walking back into the bathroom, he grabbed up several large towels, also white. He’d been thorough in his color-coordination efforts.

  She lay curled on her side when he returned, but when he began drying her, she rolled to her back and opened her eyes. He didn’t know what he’d expected to find there, but it hadn’t been fear. She looked terrified.

  A million thoughts ran through his head. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “If you don’t tell me, how can I fix it?”

  “You can’t fix this. Nobody can. But . . . we shouldn’t have sex anymore.”

  Her statement hit him like a medicine ball to the gut. “Look, I’m sorry. But you acted as if you wanted—”

  “I did. I wanted you to do exactly what you did, and that’s why we have to stop having sex.”

  He frowned. “Giselle, there’s nothing wrong with that position. People have sex like that all the time.”

  “I know.”

  “Did someone tell you it was wrong? Were you taught that?”

  “No. I was taught that anything that brings pleasure to both partners is fine, but . . .”

  “But what? Did I hurt you?”

 
“No.” Some of the fear left her eyes. “I loved it. And that’s why we can’t have sex anymore.”

  He stared at her. “You’re not making any sense. I can’t speak for you, although you said you loved what just happened. As for me, it was the best sexual experience of my life, bar none. I’ve never felt so deeply connected to a woman as I did while I was making love to you in that shower.”

  “Oh, God.” She buried her face in her hands. “I know! I know! That’s the problem!”

  Frustration made him get agitated. “How can it be a problem? Are you engaged? Married? You’re not wearing any rings, and you sure have acted like you were single, but if there’s another guy, then damn it, tell me!”

  She looked up and her expression was bleak. “There’s no one else. But there is a reason why we can’t ever be together, and I can’t tell you what it is. I thought we could have a little sexual fun together and be done, but that’s not how it’s turning out.”

  “Hm.” Some of his indignation leaked away as he saw how truly miserable she was. “Well, I can’t imagine what this big secret is that you can’t reveal.” Then he had a terrible thought. “Please don’t tell me you have a horrible disease. No, wait. Please do tell me, so that I can help.”

  “You are so sweet.” She seemed on the verge of tears. “I’m not dying, and I’m not sick. Not at all. But thanks for the sympathy you would have given me if I were.”

  Luke blew out a breath, hugely relieved. “Thank God. But that leaves . . .” He racked his brain for a logical explanation. “I know. You have psychotic episodes. Maybe you even killed someone and your family covered it up. You’re afraid it could happen again, so you can’t get deeply involved with anyone. And you had your tubes tied to make sure the trait wasn’t passed on.” He glanced at her. “Is that it?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not psychotic. Stupid, yes. Psychotic, no.” She gazed up at him. “Can’t you just accept that we have no future and let it go at that?”

  “Absolutely! I thought we’d covered the subject and we’d have lots of no-strings sex until you left for ’Frisco. I was on board with that. Then you announce we can’t have sex, after all.”