“Yes,” she answered honestly.
“Are the two of you close?”
“I perform for his family on occasion.”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he said softly.
“No, we’re not intimate and never have been.”
He nodded again. “Thank you.”
“That’s it? Those were your terms?”
“No, we’ll talk about them tomorrow,” he said.
“Tomorrow—wait, what? Why not right now?” she asked.
“Tomorrow would be best. And, Cyanna, they’re not negotiable.”
“Okay, sure, whatever,” she said. She was too elated to care about his terms and conditions. He had said yes. That’s all that mattered. She was going to have her baby. “Thank you. I promise you I’ll make this very easy for you.”
“I’ll call you in the morning. Have your things packed. You’re checking out tomorrow.”
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He leaned down and tipped her chin upward. Scorching, searing, burning heat embraced her as their lips touched. Her stomach fluttered, and her heart thundered wildly. He cupped the back of her head and pressed closer, pinning her against the open door frame. The kiss deepened as his tongue slipped between her parted lips. She nearly fainted as their bodies connected and she felt the evidence of his desire.
She knew exactly what he could do to her willing body between the sheets. She pushed in closer, needing to feel more of him against her body. The kiss was need and passion and want all wrapped up together. She was near mindless and quickly losing control. Her thoughts were focused on one thing, dragging him inside to her bed. The kiss ended when he stepped back into the hall. “Get some rest, you’re gonna need it. Good night.”
Cyanna nodded slowly. “Good night,” she said, swallowing hard from the sudden dryness in her throat. She closed the door, leaned back and smiled so wide her cheeks hurt. She licked her swollen lips. Mikhail Coles was one amazing man.
Chapter 4
Cyanna let the front desk know that she’d be checking out in the morning. She packed her two suitcases and set them by the desk. She got in bed early but then stayed up most of the night. Not on purpose, she just couldn’t sleep. She was too thrilled and excited to close her eyes. She made plans, checked items off her to-do list and consulted her electronic ovulation calendar, something she lived by recently. The dates all lined up and everything pointed to the following week as the perfect time to conceive. Perfect.
She got out of bed and walked into the bathroom. She stood at the full-length mirror, lifted her T-shirt and turned to the side. She looked down at her flat stomach and imagined what she’d look like pregnant. She smiled as the thoughts rolled around in her mind with ease. This was her dream, and Mikhail was going to make it come true.
All of a sudden, her smile faded. She began wondering what Mikhail’s terms and conditions might possibly be. She had already decided to offer him money and even if he didn’t accept it, she’d make sure that she’d do something to help his business. She touched her lips, remembering the kiss they’d shared earlier. Her stomach quivered as more detailed memories resurfaced from their last time together. She walked back into the bedroom and lay down.
She closed her eyes and recalled months ago when Mikhail had come to her apartment. It had been the night after her brother’s memorial service. There was no way she’d ever forget. Flashes of memory and snippets of conversations from that night still stayed with her. Toe-curling, mind-altering, swinging by the chandelier, Kama Sutra sex had a way of searing something like that in your memory forever.
It had rained. She had cried for days, refusing visitors and not answering the phone. She had attended her brother’s memorial service the day before but then went back into seclusion. She hadn’t wanted to see anybody. He’d knocked twice. She’d ignored him. He’d knocked twice more. She’d opened the door, and he was standing there with flowers, a box of tissues, a bottle of wine and a large brown paper bag. At first she’d thought he had the wrong apartment number, then she recognized him from before. He was her brother’s friend.
“Good evening. I brought Chinese food,” he’d said, half smiling.
She had no idea why she’d let him in. She just had. They’d talked, she’d cried, they’d ate, she’d cried and they’d talked some more. Then he’d pulled out a small box from his pocket and given it to her. “It’s hard now, but this is for the much harder days ahead,” he had said. She’d opened the box. Inside was a mini–flash drive on a gold chain.
She’d plugged the drive into her computer. The menu had come up; it listed just about every silly comedy movie from the past three decades. She’d laughed for the first time in days. She’d chosen a movie and they’d sat on the sofa and watched. Midway through, she had reached up and thanked him with a kiss, then another and another and another. Soon the kisses had exploded into ignited passion. After that she’d practically pounced on him as one thing led to another.
She had crawled up onto his lap, instantly feeling the rock hardness between his legs. She’d opened his shirt and began touching him. She’d tweaked his nipples and he’d gasped and groaned aloud. She had started to undo his belt buckle, but then he’d grabbed her wrists and stopped her. The strength and power in his forceful hands had excited her even more.
“Cyanna, stop. Wait, we can’t,” he’d said. “What you’re feeling right now is the impulse to connect with someone who knew your brother, someone to share your feelings with. Trust me, you’ll feel differently in the morning.”
She’d shaken her head slowly and unbuttoned her shirt. “No, I won’t. What I’m feeling right now is desire to be with you, to make love with you. I want you, Mikhail. Don’t you want me?” She had unsnapped her open-front bra. Her breasts had bounced free and her nipples, peeking out from the barely covering lace, were already hard enough to cut diamonds.
Mikhail had licked his lips and hypnotically nodded. “Yes,” he’d said huskily. “But tomorrow—”
“Is another day.” She’d finished his sentence while leaning in and kissing his neck and chest.
He’d groaned. “I don’t want you to think I’d take advantage of your pain and vulnerability, because...”
She had leaned back and smiled brazenly. “Fine, then let me take advantage of yours.”
His large hands had covered her breasts, and passion had immediately erupted in a frenzy of kisses, caressing and clothes being pulled and yanked off. His mouth had been on her body everywhere. Hot, scorching, burning, searing her skin as her wetness poured free. She had never wanted anyone like she’d wanted him at that moment.
An instant later they’d been completely naked and she was straddling his muscled thighs. His enormous desire had stood straight up at her. She’d sat up high, arched her back and slammed down, impaling her body onto his. He had tried to slow her descent, but she’d been too insistent. Her scream of pleasure and pain had shot through the room. He’d grabbed her close and held her still. His penetration had been deep and her insides had burned red-hot, but she’d wanted more.
She’d pushed back and began gyrating her hips—moving up and down, pulling him in and then releasing him. Her perky breasts had bounced each time she moved. He’d eyed them, mesmerized, before opening his mouth and taking one into his warmth. He had suckled, and she had sizzled. The mounting force had begun to soar. She’d led; he’d followed. He’d moaned, holding back his pleasure and letting her have her way with his body, and she’d delighted in his obedience.
Her pace had quickened, and their breathing had increased. The first spasm had hit her and nearly knocked her back. She’d steadied her hands on his thigh and shoulder and rocked him harder. She’d come again, this time stronger and harder. She’d screamed his name and pushed for more. He had met her forceful need and pivoted her body, slamming her down on
the sofa, putting him on top. She’d looked up, pleased with his dominance and force. She’d locked her legs around his waist. Without releasing her hold on him, he’d surged into her over and over again.
Each thrust, more vigorous than the last, had taken her breath. She’d been weak and her body had shaken as she’d felt the building of yet another climax. He’d pushed in one last time and they’d both exploded, gripping tight and straining to control the uncontrollable. Her body had shaken fiercely, tensed and then sated.
Later he had picked her up and taken her into the bedroom. They had made love the rest of the night and all morning long. It was just that easy, and there was no awkwardness at all. It might have been just as he’d said, a need to connect with someone after a death, but it was obvious that both of them needed it.
Now, in the stilled darkness of early morning, Cyanna looked around the empty bedroom. She had thought about that night often. She knew she’d never have another experience like that again. She rolled over in bed and sighed. Her thoughts faded as sleep took her back to that night again when passion and pleasure ruled.
Hours later, Cyanna woke up with a start. She looked around the hotel room and prayed she hadn’t dreamed everything last night. When she saw her packed bags, she relaxed. She looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was after nine o’clock. She jumped up and hurried to get ready.
As she showered, dressed and prepared to leave, she began to wonder about Mikhail and the women in his life. What were they like? What was his type?
She released her hair from her big puffy ponytail, then added a touch of lipstick to her mouth. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. The room phone rang. It was the first time she’d heard it ring in six days. She answered. “Hello.”
“Ms. Dupres?”
“Yes.”
“Your car is waiting for you out front.”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“If you’re ready, I can have a bellman pick up your luggage.”
“I didn’t arrange for a car,” she said.
“Yes, ma’am, but Mr. Coles did.”
“Mr. Coles. When?”
“Last night. He also paid your hotel bill, so you’re all set.”
“He what?” she screeched louder than expected. “No, change that. I’ll be paying my own hotel bill.”
“Ma’am, I’m afraid it’s already in the system. There’s nothing I can do. It’s already been paid. Would you like me to send a bellman?”
Cyanna was seething, but she knew it wasn’t the desk clerk’s fault. It was Mikhail. Okay, she had to make a few things perfectly clear to him. Just because she was going to use his sperm didn’t give him a say in her life, and that included taking care of her hotel bill. “Yes, a bellman would be great, thank you,” she said tightly.
She left the hotel a few minutes later. The ride was longer than she’d expected, and in that time her frustration and anger hadn’t waned a bit. She was furious with Mikhail for his presumptive attitude. She glanced out the window and noticed that instead of going to the marina area, the driver steered in the opposite direction. A while later they pulled into a large driveway and stopped in front of a huge, two-story mansion. The driver got out and opened the door for her. “Are you sure this is where you’re supposed to take me?”
“Yes, Ms. Dupres. I am to instruct you to just go inside.”
Confused, she grimaced and shook her head and walked toward the front door. She tried the handle; it gave way with ease. She walked inside. The driver, following, deposited her two bags in the foyer, refused a tip, then tipped his hat and closed the door behind him.
Cyanna stood in the foyer and looked around. “Hello,” she called out a few times. She heard music coming from the back of the house. It was her music, her playing. She followed the sound down the hall, past the dining room into the kitchen and then out through the family room’s sliding glass doors, leading to the patio. The backyard was glorious. It looked like a mini paradise. She walked toward the swimming pool. She immediately saw a man’s figure swimming underwater. He was completely naked.
It was Mikhail; of that there was no doubt. The perfection of manhood had never been so crystal clear than it was seeing him at that moment. He surfaced. In long, smooth strokes he swam to the far edge of the pool and pulled himself out.
“Holy moly,” she muttered as her stomach twisted.
If she could only capture on film the faultlessness of his arms, his shoulders, his back, his rear, his legs, his rear—yes, it bore repeating—she could make a fortune. He grabbed a towel lying on the lounge chair and dried his face, then turned to face her. There was no embarrassment, no shame or vanity. He was as he was and it was evident that he was comfortable in his skin. He paused a moment, smiled and then walked toward her. The sexy sureness of his bold movements took her breath away.
“Oh. My. Gooo...”
Mikhail turned, seeing Cyanna standing there. She was pure elegant sex appeal, even in her form-fitted knee length dress. He had to smile. She had no idea the effect her quiet, prim and proper manner had on men, on him. His body began to heat up just seeing her standing there. And right now, all he could think about was peeling that dress from her body and wrapping her legs around his waist. But he had to shelve those thoughts for now. Business first, pleasure second. He tossed the towel behind him and walked over.
Her jaw was slack as she tried to avert her eyes away from him. Her shyness and embarrassment at seeing him naked was sweet.
He knew the effect he had on women. He’d be a fool not to. In grade school little girls had been clamoring and falling all over themselves for his attention. Middle and high school were pretty much the same, but when it came to college things ramped up exponentially. It was insanely ridiculous. They cooked and cleaned for him and did whatever he wanted them to do, all in hopes of calling him theirs. Most men would love being in that position, but he mostly brushed their attention off. But when he wanted to make a statement and be noticed by a particular woman, there was no question about it, he was noticed. Today was one of those days.
When they had kissed, the attraction was still there and strong. The passion he felt when he pressed his body to hers nearly knocked him off his feet. He intended to give her three conditions. He knew she’d balk at the first two, but the last he hoped would satisfy both of them.
“Good morning,” he said, smiling graciously. “Welcome.”
“Good morning. Thank you.” She paused to listen. “Nice music.”
He nodded. “Yes, it is. I was never much for classical music, but I must say it’s growing on me.”
It was one of her feature pieces, of course. She looked around, admiring the stunning beauty of the place. “So, is this your home?”
“Sometimes, today it is. It’s usually rented out, but it’s between rentals right now. I hope you’re hungry. You’ll need your nourishment,” he said, nodding to a table set in the gazebo.
“No, thank you. I don’t usually eat breakfast,” she said.
“Well, that’s going to have to stop immediately, isn’t it?”
“Mikhail, I asked you to be my sperm donor, not my babysitter. You can’t just come into my life and regulate everything. It’s my life. I’m perfectly capable of paying my own hotel bill, finding my own transportation and deciding when or if I’m hungry. Yes, I will begin eating a healthy and more balanced diet when I’m pregnant. So in the future please allow me to take care of my personal matters and my business myself. I’m a big girl. I’ve been on my own for a long time. I can take care of myself and whoever else comes along.”
“Of course you can, and I apologize,” he said. “You’re right—that was presumptuous of me. In my defense, I wanted this morning to go as smoothly as possible for you.”
“Thank you,” she said more softly. She didn’t expect him to
be so accommodating to her feelings. “Okay, I thought you’d be dressed to go by now,” she said, trying to keep her eyes averted upward.
“To go where?” he asked.
“To the clinic,” she said. “I thought maybe if it was okay with you we could get a flight out this evening or even sooner. There’s a first-rate clinic in Atlanta that has an extremely good reputation, and their marked success rate of viable pregnancies is impressive. We can go there. I can make all the arrangements.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I’ve already made arrangements and taken care of everything.”
“What do you mean you made arrangements?” she asked, feeling her annoyance begin to simmer again. “Did you change your mind?”
“No, of course not,” he said. “But as I said, on my terms.”
“Okay, what exactly are your terms?” she asked.
He smiled. “I’ll make the donation as you requested, but it’ll be the old-fashioned way and not in a petri dish.”
“What do you mean the old-fashioned way?” she asked, completely dense until he looked at her and tilted his head. Seeing the expression on his face, she immediately understood. Her breath quickly caught in her throat, and her jaw dropped. She looked down the full length of his perfect body and nearly passed out. She knew without a doubt that sex with Mikhail was mind-blowing insanity. She’d barely survived their one weekend together. But there was no way she could, day after day, night after night, oh my... “No, no, out of the question. This has to be done the right way.”
“The right way—do you want to explain that? Because right now you’re implying that the entire human race has been doing it the wrong way all this time.” He smirked humorously.
“You know what I mean. This has to be clinical.”
“Why?”
“Because,” she said, then took a deep breath and exhaled. “I don’t want any residual sentiments or feelings. These things have a tendency to get emotionally messy. I want to avoid that at all costs, thus intimacy without attachment.”
The Thrill of You Page 4