Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous

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Lifestyles of the Witch & Famous Page 5

by Riser, Mimi


  Tyler sucked in his breath and let it out in a low growl. “Okay, that’s it!” Without warning, he smoothed her skirt back down and, in one quick move, hoisted her over his shoulder. “Bed. Now. Or I’m going to bend you over the banister and screw your lights out right here.”

  Molly squealed as he started up the stairs. When had she lost control?

  The second she’d seen him, that’s when.

  Help…

  She kicked and pounded her fists on his back, trying to wriggle free, but not nearly as hard as she could have, and she knew it. Anger at her own weakness, came out as anger at him. “Hey, wait a minute! I don’t think I care for your language. And I sure don’t—”

  “You might not like how I say it, but you’ll love how I do it.” His chuckle rumbled against her.

  She was not amused. “Listen, mister, I don’t know what kind of women you’re used to, but I’m not one of them. I don’t like caveman tactics. I don’t like arrogance, period. And right now, I damn sure don’t like you!”

  “Fine. Go ahead and hate me. Most people do. But you still want me, baby.”

  To prove the point, he stopped at the head of the stairs, which opened into a wide hallway, swung her down to her feet, and yanked her close. His mouth swooped down on hers like a bird of prey. One fast, hard steamroller of a kiss, flattening resistance.

  She hung limp as a rag doll in his arms when it was over, battling for breath, feeling the heat of his body scorching into her, hearing his husky voice through a smoky haze.

  “You want me, Molly. Deny it, and we’ll both know you’re a liar.”

  Not waiting for an answer, he lifted her again, more gently this time, with one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. Cradling her high against his chest, he strode down the hall and kicked open a door at the end.

  Carved wood snapped back against a tapestry-hung wall with a muffled thud. Molly flinched at the sound, then gasped as she hit a mattress with a soft splat. No bounce, just a slight swaying feeling of seasickness.

  A waterbed? Figured. It was large and round, and dripping with satins and velvet – the perfect centerpiece for the red and gilt chamber’s “French Bordello” décor.

  Egads…

  She stared up through kiss-clouded eyes and was relieved to not see herself staring back.

  “What? No mirrors on the ceiling?” Her gaze flashed to Tyler, who stood grinning down at her, like a shark eyeing bait.

  “I don’t need mirrors to do my tricks. But I’ll have one installed if it’s a turn-on for you.”

  “It’s not. I was being facetious.”

  “Um, yeah, I realized that.” Chuckling, he crossed the room to close the door, then returned to the bedside, slowly peeling off his shirt and belt and laying them neatly on a Louis XVI chair along the way. Shoes and socks, he placed under a marble-topped table beside the chair.

  The guy was a neat-freak? One more reason he shouldn’t have kids.

  Her pulse racing, Molly focused on the clothes’ dispersal to avoid thinking of the body they’d covered. A lost cause. The body was impossible to ignore. All golden tan muscle, deadly masculine and rippling with power.

  The rasp of a zipper sounded, and he stepped out of his slacks and briefs together. Where they ended up, Molly never noticed. A naked and sexually aroused Tyler James climbing onto the bed demanded full attention. That and trying to breathe in a room suddenly gone airless.

  She shouldn’t be here. Not with him, not like this. She should move. Now. He’d closed the door, but he hadn’t locked it. She was dressed. He wasn’t. She could walk out this moment, and he wouldn’t be able to follow.

  Why didn’t she?

  The mattress beneath her undulated with gentle waves as he stretched out on his side, facing her. Bigger waves, sizzling and stormy, crashed through her at the sight and scent of him, spicy clean and utterly male. Nearly an arm’s length of space separated them, but she felt his presence along her whole body. Raw heat radiated off him.

  Raw sex.

  Paralyzed, Molly stared.

  Tyler rose up on an elbow, not reaching for her, not trying to touch, holding her with nothing but his gaze. Piercing midnight blue eyes drilled deep into her, nailing her in place.

  “Last chance,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. “You’ll notice I’ve given you plenty of time to escape. The door’s that way” – he indicated the direction with a slight wave of his free hand – “if you want to use it.” His hand dropped to rest palm down on the mattress a few inches from her arm. “But we both know you don’t want to leave. Don’t we.”

  A statement, not a question.

  Slowly, still giving her time to move away, he slid forward, closing the gap between them. Molly’s breath hitched as his body snugged up against hers.

  “I wish you’d stop saying what we both know. You don’t know anything about me.” Her voice sounded scratchy as sandpaper to her own ears.

  His sounded like crushed velvet, rich and sensual. “I know you’re still here.”

  “Oh sure, throw that in my face.” Molly gritted her teeth to keep from groaning as his arms snaked around her. Then he rolled to his back, pulling her flat on top of him, crushing her breasts against his chest. Like they had a mind of their own, her legs fell open, straddling him. Bad legs. Her hands roved over his biceps and shoulders, drinking in by touch the smooth hard feel of him. She couldn’t help it. Her body had turned traitor. Bad her, bad him. A very wicked man, Tyler James.

  “I know you’re hot and wet for me,” he added in a whisper.

  The fact he was right didn’t make the statement any easier to take. “You don’t know anything of the sort.”

  “I can find out easy enough.”

  Damn, she’d walked right into that one.

  “Don’t you dare.” Flushed and tousled, she shoved back to glare at him.

  And her halter-top dropped off.

  Apparently he’d been busy untying the knots that held it in place. Somehow Molly had missed that little detail. Whereas Tyler, she saw, missed nothing. Hot and hungry, his eyes devoured her naked breasts.

  Then his mouth did the same.

  He gripped her ribcage, forcing her forward as his head rose to meet her. His tongue flicked out, teasing first the right nipple into a tight peak, then the left, before his lips circled one and he settled into some serious action. Licking, nipping, sucking her…nearly giving her a stroke. When she quivered and moaned, he switched to the other breast, and repeated the whole process.

  Trapped straddling him, Molly felt his erection swelling to new proportions under her, nothing between them but a few folds of her skirt. He aggravated the situation by bending his knees and pressing his thighs against her rump, rocking his hips and rubbing himself against her.

  Goddess, have mercy…

  Tyler sure didn’t. Once started, there was no stopping him, no strength in Molly to even try. His body demanded, and hers gave. No questions, no arguments. Just an aching void opening within her…hot, heavy need…building, burning…

  He rolled again, pinning her beneath him, hiking up her skirt around her waist so her lower half lay spread out as bare and open to him as her top – flesh grinding against flesh, skin scorching skin. He was ruthless, gave no quarter, took no prisoners. A wildfire assault, roasting her alive, the only weapons lips and teeth and tongue. And his hands, strong and insistent on her, stroking, squeezing, probing…those talented fingers, like keys, unlocking all her secrets… Except the biggest one; he didn’t probe that far.

  Her hips jerked up in spastic response when his hand moved between her thighs as though he owned her. At that moment, he did.

  “Told you. You’re wet.” Tyler growled the words against her breast, then gave her nipple a long, luscious suckle before releasing it to kiss his way down her stomach and over her abdomen.

  She clutched the plush bedspread as his mouth explored the territory his hand had just claimed. Oh, sweet heaven… Or hell. M
olly wasn’t sure which. He tantalized with tiny licks and nuzzles, tonguing and tasting everywhere but the one small spot that craved it most. A deadly deliberate tease.

  Her spine arched as the pressure built. And built… She clutched harder at the bedclothes to keep from clutching him, and squeezed her eyes shut in angry frustration. Anger at him for doing this, and worse anger at herself for letting him.

  This should never have happened. Considering who he was, what she was, and why she was here in the first place, landing in bed with him was the dumbest, most irresponsible thing she could have done. She was out of her league with this man.

  Panic invaded her even as every nerve ending screamed for release. Panic at her own helpless reaction to him. He’d ridden roughshod over her reason, taken her by storm. And he was showing Molly a side of herself she’d never seen. A crazy, wanton side that apparently liked a bit of rough play. Whoever would have guessed it?

  His hands reached out and grabbed hers fisted in the covers. Did he sense that she was gathering her reserves, trying to summon the strength to stop this show? Molly struggled against his grip, but not with her full power.

  What a bitter pill to swallow, the realization she was struggling more because she liked the feel of him holding her down than because she honestly wanted to be free. What an amazing turn-on, this sense of being overwhelmed, swamped with desire, out of control…

  She shouldn’t like it. She never had before. Molly was a Nice Girl who’d always admired nice men. She’d never understood the Bad Boy appeal. Till now.

  How could she have guessed bad could feel so good? With Tyler, rough felt oh-so smooth.

  In a few too-easy moves, he slid up her body and anchored both her hands over her head in one of his, locking her wrists against the mattress, trapping her flat with his weight, while his other hand groped outward, rummaging. A brief rustling sounded, and a satin covered pillow landed by their hips. Its scarlet color matched the steamy haze clouding Molly’s vision. Then Tyler’s hand returned from its search with a small foil packet.

  A condom?

  She winced at the sight of it. An old pain surfaced to cool some of the steam. Shock helped cool the rest. “You keep condoms hidden in your bed?”

  The question seemed to amuse him. A devilish spark lit his eyes as he tore open the packet with his teeth. “Yes, as a matter of fact. Except my bed is at the other side of the house, quite a hike from here. This is a guestroom.”

  “Oh.” For some reason, the news this godawful décor wasn’t his own personal choice for a bedroom comforted her. But not much. The gleam in his eyes was starting the steam rising again – as though the feel of his body pressing down on her wasn’t steamy enough. Molly fought an urge to squirm beneath him so she could feel even more of that body.

  “But, just for the record, I keep condoms everywhere. I used to be a boy scout.” He said it innocently, then quoted with an anything-but-innocent grin, “Always be prepared.”

  Very funny.

  Her gaze slanted to her halter-top crumpled nearby like a discarded dishrag. “Yeah, I noticed you’re good with knots.”

  “Is that an invitation for me to tie you up?” Tyler’s grin waxed wicked.

  Molly almost swallowed her tongue.

  “No!” She tried to sound like she meant it, but it was difficult with the visions that suddenly flooded her head. Visions she shouldn’t be having, that shouldn’t excite her. And did. Visions of herself bound and totally at his mercy while he wrecked red-hot havoc on her with mouth and hands and—

  Quickly, with an ease that showed he’d had lots of practice, Tyler thumbed out the small rolled circle and flicked its wrapper aside while Molly did her best not to stare. And failed. The circle really wasn’t that small. “Extra large” was the term that came to mind. “Huge” was what it needed to cover – but perhaps they didn’t make condoms that big. She watched in horrified fascination as, still holding her wrists with one hand, he pushed off her just enough to sheath himself with the other hand.

  “You don’t need to do that.” She didn’t realize she’d voiced the thought aloud till she heard her own whisper, hoarse and tense.

  His eyebrows quirked up. “You don’t believe in safe sex?”

  Hah. Coming from him, “safe sex” was a contradiction in terms. With Tyler James nothing was safe, and she hoped the dirty look she gave him delivered that message.

  If it did, he didn’t seem to care. The man’s attitude was almost too blasé. Of course, he had the experience to back it up.

  “Mind you, I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Tyler continued. “And you can rest assured it’s well placed. I’m always careful, and I’m always clean…so to speak. I’d like to give you the benefit of the doubt in that regard, too. But even ignoring the hygiene issues, there are other concerns, right? Maybe you’re trying to inform me you’re on the pill?”

  No, just sterile.

  Born with a malformed uterus that made pregnancy an impossibility. That’s why she’d refused Steve the first time he proposed to her – on her eighteenth birthday – because she’d known how much he wanted children, and knew she couldn’t give him any. That’s why she’d never dated anyone else. It had hurt like hell to give up Steve; taken a long while to get over him. By the time she had, ironic Fate had stepped in, giving him back to her along with the children that she’d always wanted, too. Then she really couldn’t date. She’d felt bad enough refusing his second poignant proposal without flaunting other men in his face.

  But explaining all that to Tyler wouldn’t help anything. And it was none of his damn business anyway. In a last-ditch effort to regain control, Molly said what she wished was the truth instead.

  “You don’t need it because you’re not putting that…that monster anywhere near me. I want out of here. I’m leaving. This meeting has gone as far as it’s going to go.”

  “Monster?” His black brows rose higher, and his lips twitched, like laughter was on the way. “I don’t think it’s ever been called a ‘monster’ before, but I’ll take it as a compliment.” The laughter erupted in a throaty chuckle as he sank forward again, pressing her into the bed. “Don’t let the size intimidate you, baby. I promise, I haven’t killed anyone with it yet.”

  A comedian, he wasn’t. She opened her mouth to tell him so, but a hard kiss ground down, cutting off speech. His right hand re-secured her wrists over her head while his left started doing unbelievably distracting things to her breasts.

  Molly went rigid, using every last ounce of will to not respond, but the will had already been stretched thin. It snapped when two knees dug between hers and pushed her legs apart, splaying her wide open to anything – everything – he wanted to do.

  An awful feeling to be so vulnerable.

  Awful hot.

  And she was powerless to stop it.

  Him, she could have fought. Compared to Tyler, Molly was small, but no wimp, and she knew a few defensive moves. More than a few actually. But none of those moves would work on herself, which was the real problem. She didn’t want to fight him. She knew that, and so did he. Tyler was right. They both knew more than she cared to admit.

  Shivers shook the air, or seemed to – something electric and pulsing, humming with high-pitched anticipation – a sense of destiny about to pop. Or herself, at any rate.

  Suddenly she felt like a virgin sacrifice being offered up to a dragon, but she doubted any other sacrificial victim had ever been so enflamed by the prospect of being devoured. Liquid heat coursed through her as the “monster” nudged in, penetrating with just its head…yes…then pulled out again. No! She strained to not raise her hips and chase after it. Will might be gone, but the pretense of regaining control was difficult to surrender.

  And Tyler was no help at all. His torso rubbed hers. His lips moved, tormenting her neck. He hovered at her opening, the head of his shaft pushing just enough to ensure she knew he was there, poised for a full hard entry. But not giving it. She’d known he was bad,
but this was demonic.

  His voice taunted her. “More, Molly? You want more? Then you have to ask for it. Tell me how much you want me, baby. I want to hear you admit it.”

  Never. They already knew it anyway, both of them. There was no need for her to state it aloud. If she could just keep the admission silent, maybe she could salvage a small scrap of dignity. Surely he could let her keep that much. He was taking everything else.

  Molly squeezed shut her eyes to block out the sight of him, but nothing could block out his feel. Quivers struck her as his tongue teased the hollow of her throat and his hand snaked up and down her side. He paused in the stroking to draw lazy circles around her nipple, his fingers licking her like flames. The waterbed wavered beneath them with every delicate move. Her resolve wavered even more.

  “You’re an evil man,” she panted out.

  “Mmm, yeah, that seems to be the general consensus,” he murmured into her neck. “But that’s not what I told you to say.”

  His legs pressed outward against hers, spreading her wider, and he angled back to slide his erection lengthwise through her crease, making himself slick with her juices, making her writhe and moan.

  “You want me, Molly. Say it. Tell me now, or I’ll do things that will make you beg for it.”

  He already was. She strangled back a plea, learning quickly how this game was played. The more she resisted, the harder he’d try to bend her to his will. And, at the moment, hard felt all too tempting. She just wanted to feel more of it. She almost surrendered when the “monster” nuzzled her opening again.

  Quit stalling and shove it in, for godssake!

  Damn, she was evil, too, for thinking that. She really did have to stop this. It was wrong. There’d be hell to pay if it went any further. Getting involved this way with this man was a huge mistake. Mentally straining, she grabbed for the ends of her shredded control and tried to weave it back together.

  “I already told you what I want. Out of here.” The declaration sounded less than certain, but she said it anyway, hoping to convince herself at least, if not him. “I want to leave. Didn’t you hear me before?”

 

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