The Naughty Nine: Where Danger and Passion Collide

by Nina Bruhns

  When her panties landed on her feet, she quickly kicked them away.

  “Are you going to critique the rest of me as well?” Her voice was gruff and husky, sending a shiver up his spine, causing him to literally ache for her.

  “Yes, and you’re even more perfect than I imagined. You have perfect round hips, a taught little belly, the perfect bellybutton and the hair between your legs is sheer enough for me to see the curve of what I want most.” The temptation of her perfectly gorgeous body was enough to make him pulse with excitement, but he wanted to see more of her. “Turn around and let me see your bottom. I saw it in moonlight, now let me see it in the warmth of sunlight.”

  “It used to be…”

  “Shush. I don’t want to hear any insecurity. You’re perfectly stunning with a body made for sex. Seeing all of you like this is driving me crazy.”

  “You’re so bad.”

  “Hey, I’m the one who’s fully dressed.”

  She giggled, sounding just like that little girl he envisioned showing off her new panties, then she turned and Antonio caught her knees buckle. If he wasn’t sitting down he’d be on her, holding her, tasting her, loving her. As it was he throbbed against his jeans and it was killing him to watch Margot standing in front of him completely naked and him choosing not to do anything about it, choosing to go by his moral code, acting all upstanding and correct when he was dying to take her in his arms.

  As he watched her leisurely turn in front of him, with the sun shining on her smooth skin, he thought of all the times he had wanted a woman and when he stacked them all up, he realized he had never wanted to make love to a woman more than he wanted to make love to Margot. She stirred emotions deep inside him that he never thought he could feel for anyone, much less a woman he’d only met a few days before.

  Was this love? He didn’t know, but if it wasn’t, he was in one hell of a mess.

  When she’d turned completely around and faced the door, he saw it, the dragon tattoo in the small of her back. The bright colors contrasted against her skin almost giving it a dimensional affect, as if the dragon could jump off her body. It accentuated the sensual lines of her back, and caused her hips and bottom to look that much more alluring. The dragon sat perched right where that fabulous bottom of hers protruded out, and right where he wanted to linger, kissing her, tasting her, feeling her skin against his.

  “I would have never guessed,” he blurted out. “I thought I saw something on your back the night you told me you had a gun pointed at my head, but I wasn’t sure.” His voice now sounded almost scratchy deep. He couldn’t help it. His voice always hit dark baritone levels when he was aroused and at the moment, his arousal was all consuming.

  “What? Don’t you like it?”

  “I love it. It only makes you more beautiful and perfect in every way, especially with that dragon tattoo on your backside. I never would have taken you as someone who would get a tattoo.”

  She turned back to face him. Her face a bit stormy, and he had the distinct impression that tattoo had a gloomy meaning behind it.

  “It’s a long story, but I had it done after I divorced my husband. A symbol of strength.”

  “It seems to be working.” He tried to make light of her spontaneous dark mood. “Take all the time you need. I’m clearly enjoying the moment.”

  And he briefly brushed his hand over his groin, and switched positions in his chair.

  His actions worked and she smiled again, her eyes reflecting the sunlight that glistened off her skin.

  Still, she said, “I don’t think I can do this.”

  “You don’t have to tell me the story behind the dragon tattoo if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I mean I don’t think I can stand here like this with you staring at me. My knees are weak and I feel as if I might pass out. It’s making me lightheaded.” She ran a hand up the side of her neck, tangled her fingers up in her hair and tossed it to one side. The sun dancing on her spectacular body caused her skin to seem as if it glowed from within. As if she were the sun, and everything around her was lit from her radiance. His desire for her was all consuming and if he couldn’t find a release soon he was sure he’d die right there in the chair.

  Oh, but what a glorious way to end his days.

  “What do you think it’s doing to me?”

  “Then why are we doing this?”

  “Because I don’t want you to burn in hell, and I don’t want you to lose your best friend.”

  “But I’m so totally turned on.” She ran her hands down her body, lightly touching her breasts, then running them back up to her neck. His chest clenched and his jaw ached from all the tension in his body.

  “Then maybe you should pleasure yourself.” The words came out without his ever thinking about them. As if some other force had taken over his mind and caused him to say things that might push her away.

  A wave of fear washed over him, but he didn’t flinch. He didn’t want her to see any weakness in his conviction. Somehow deep inside his soul he knew if they stood a chance this had to happen.

  “Is that an order?”

  “It’s a request.”

  “Would it keep you turned on?”

  “Just seeing you naked is my turn on, but watching you pleasure yourself would send me over the edge.”

  She took in a ragged deep breath and he could see her beautiful chest rise and fall. “I wouldn’t . . . I mean, that’s so out of my realm. I don’t know if I can.”

  “Would it help if it was an order?”

  “It’s just that I don’t know what you’ll say or do.”

  “I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to and I’ll stay right here and watch.”

  “Is that a promise? ‘Cause I can feel the heat of hell licking at my heels.”

  “Baby, that’s not hell you’re feeling, that’s me.”

  She chuckled. “This is crazy.”

  “It makes perfect sense. This way neither one of us has to feel guilty.”

  “Will you be sleeping with Jackie when she returns?”

  And there it was, the elephant in the room he’d been trying desperately to ignore. He knew he had to somehow convince her that although he and Jackie had been together, he never felt love for any woman, until Margot.

  “You’re the only woman I want.”

  He wished he could tell her that he was falling in love with her, that he couldn’t see himself with anyone else, that she’d managed to capture his heart and he didn’t want to ever let her go. But he knew that very same heart was vulnerable. It had been torn apart once before and he couldn’t take the chance of admitting how he felt until he was totally sure she felt the same way.

  “How can I trust you?”

  He took in a deep breath and blew it out to help shake the tension that was building. Then he slid his hands under his twitching thighs and said, “Because I’m still in my chair.”

  * * *

  Margot didn’t know if she could let go like he wanted her to, like he probably expected her to, but for the first time in her life, she was willing to try.

  She stared into his eyes for strength as she slid her hands down the soft curves of her body, lingering over her breasts, and pinching her nipples. He never seemed to blink as she gently squeezed each breast in the palm of her hands, letting out a soft moan as her body reacted to her touch, to his eyes blazing through her skin, causing her to burn with desire for his touch, for his lips on hers.

  Her legs felt weak as she slipped a hand between her legs and felt the slickness of her emotions. She widened her stance, and slowly rubbed her fingers along the inner curves of her body, as she exploded with desire for him, wishing it was his fingers and not hers, touching, rubbing . . . so wet, so ready.

  Then he rose from his chair. “I can’t do this anymore. I thought I could just watch you, but I can’t, Margot. I have to touch you. I have to make love to you. Please . . . ”

  She nodded and he stepped closer. Then he ran his fin
gers up and down her breasts, gently nicking each nipple as he then gently cupped them just the way he’d said he could imagine doing.

  “I have to taste you,” he told her before he pressed his warm, soft lips to hers, causing her heart to beat faster and her body to flush with his heat.

  “All of you,” he whispered, then he scooped her up into his arms and walked to the bed.

  “What about staying on your chair?” she teased, as she clasped her arms around his shoulders.

  “I lied.”

  He sat her down on the edge of the bed. She didn’t move.

  “So then, I can’t trust you.”

  “Not when it comes to making love to you. No. You can’t.”

  “And you don’t care if I burn in hell?”

  “As long as I can burn along with you, I’ll be a happy man.”

  “Make love to me until there’s nothing left but ash.”

  He smiled as he quickly removed every stitch of clothing and she saw his perfect erection. A little moan escaped her lips as she reached for him, wanting to feel the heat of his incredible body on top of her, inside her. She bent back on the bed, moved her legs so that she was open to him, and waited for him to climb up over her.

  When he lay on top of her, and held her tight against his strong body, he said, “There will be nothing left of either of us but unrecognizable ash.”

  Everything He Never Wanted: Chapter Eight

  Even after all she’d done and said, Margot was still a bit shy about giving herself to Antonio. Not that she held much back, especially when she was on top of him the third time they made love, out on the sofa in the living room just as daylight disappeared from the room. She was still a bit cautious about her feelings for him, still gun-shy about completely surrendering to her every desire. She knew if she allowed herself to consider the possibility of giving him her all, she would forever more be in love with him and would never be able to recover when he walked away from her . . . and he would most definitely walk away. Antonio was a player, that was evident with the way he talked about Jackie.

  But as their lovemaking transcended mere sex, and the well of emotion began to overtake her, she became more self-confidant in both her body and in her ability to bring Antonio to his knees. The more she felt his emotional pull towards her, the more she allowed herself the freedom to take risks and often had to consciously control her desires to keep from crying. He was so gentle with her, so tender with each touch that all her barriers began to crumble, causing her to want more and more of him, until he said, “Margot, I’m in love with you. I know it sounds crazy, but I can’t help myself. You’re the woman I’ve been searching for, the woman I want, the woman I need.”

  Margot shot straight up from the sofa feeling as though she could still get ahead of his misplaced emotional upheaval. Those had been some of the exact words her ex had used on her early in their relationship and she couldn’t deal with them coming out of Antonio’s mouth. She didn’t know what game he was playing, but she refused to get caught up in it without a rule book.

  “Oh no, no, no. You’re not going to drop that on me and expect me to fall for it. You’re not in love with me or any woman. You’re a player and players never fall in love or . . . they wouldn’t be players.”

  Margot grabbed the bunny T-shirt off the floor and slipped it on. Fortunately, it fell just below her butt so she didn’t bother to slip her underwear back on. Besides, she was too hungry to take the time to look for them.

  “I can’t help it. It’s true. I wasn’t going to tell you, but it slipped out.”

  Margot stood and headed for the kitchen. “You can’t be in love with me. We hardly know each other.”

  She needed food in the worst way, mass quantities of food. Whenever there was an emotional crisis in her life, she had to eat. Like when her son broke his leg mountain biking, she gained five pounds in two days. Or when her daughter told her she’d slept with her boyfriend after the junior dance, Margot consumed an entire large pizza in one sitting. Then there was the fateful night she’d discovered her ex out in the playhouse. Three pints of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia, and one pint of Chunky Monkey. Later she not only had a sugar rush of major proportions but to this day she blamed her burning down that playhouse on Ben & Jerry.

  Antonio followed her into the kitchen. “I know how I feel,” he said, sounding determined to make her understand.

  But she didn’t want to hear it. Especially not now. Not when she was beginning to feel the same way.

  “Love complicates everything, and I’m trying to keep my life simple. Besides, it’ll never work. We come from two different worlds, two different coasts.”

  “We can work it out.”

  She headed straight for the pantry and peered inside.

  Nothing. No chips. No popcorn. No junk food of any kind.

  Margot wondered how Jackie survived.

  “Just because I wrote a few journals that you want to publish, doesn’t make us compatible.”

  “I’m not talking about your journals.”

  “You have sex with lots of women.”

  “Where did you get that idea?”

  “You had sex with Jackie.”

  “I don’t love Jackie. I love you.”

  “That’s impossible. Jackie’s beautiful, and smart, and worldly.”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “What? That I’m in love with you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t.” He plopped down on a kitchen chair, still naked.

  “Put something on. You’re body’s a distraction.”

  He stood and walked toward her. “I’ll take that as a good thing.”

  She flung open the top freezer door just as he came up next to her nearly knocking him in the head.

  “You need to cool off.” And she tossed him a packet of frozen peas which he caught in his right hand.

  “We need to talk,” he said, tossing the frozen peas back at her. She caught the bag, briefly touched it to her forehead, then tossed it back inside the freezer.

  “What we need is junk food.”

  Margot searched for ice-cream but instead found a bag of frozen strawberries. She hated frozen fruit. When it thawed it turned to mush, much like her insides were feeling at the moment. She wanted ice-cream or a cake or cupcakes. An entire dozen would be perfect. A dozen assorted flavored cupcakes with colored sprinkles would clear her head and allow her to think straight again, because at the moment she could barely put a coherent thought together.

  “I need a cupcake or ice-cream or anything sweet.”

  “Mark and Spencer’s is a block away.”

  She shut the freezer door and opened the fridge: organic berries, organic milk, organic cheese and a bottle of ketchup. “How does this woman live? There’s nothing to eat. I need real food.”

  And she grabbed her purse off the kitchen counter where she had left it the night before and headed for the door.

  “Wait!” Antonio shouted from behind her. “Don’t open that door.”

  She stopped and at once she realized she was leaving the apartment wearing nothing but a bunny T-shirt. She couldn’t look at Antonio, couldn’t face him. Emotion overtook her and she raced down the hallway, jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head. Never had she acted so irrational and so careless. She didn’t know what was happening to her, but whatever it was, she had lost all sense of reason and it devastated her.

  Antonio walked into the room, found his jeans, slipped them on and sat on the edge of the bed. “Okay, perhaps I was a bit hasty. I can’t take back what I said, but obviously you don’t feel the same way . . . which is all right. I can handle it. Tell you what, you go to dinner with your agent, and afterwards I’ll pick you up and we’ll catch a play. It will do us both some good to get out.”

  She had almost forgotten the dinner plans with her agent and was thankful he’d reminded her. Margot wasn’t a big fan of live theater. She wa
s more of a movie at home kind of girl. Crowds of people made her nervous, but this was the new and improved Margot. This was the writer, Margot Butler, the sex kitten who purred whenever Antonio touched her. This Margot loved the theater or at least would learn to love it just like, God help her, she would learn to accept Antonio’s love.

  She nodded. “Okay.” Then she slipped down under the covers hoping to grab a short nap. If she couldn’t eat a dozen cupcakes, the next best thing was sleep.

  “What time is your dinner?”

  “Six o’clock,” she told him without opening her eyes, and squishing her pillow under her head.

  “It’s going on five o’clock. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

  Her eyes sprung open and she literally jumped out of bed and hit the floor running.

  “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t be late for my very first meeting with my agent.”

  She could hear Antonio chuckling as she dashed for the bathroom, ripping off her tee as she went.

  “Do you need any help in there?” he yelled after her.

  “No. You stay away or I’ll never get ready, but you can look for my shoes.”

  * * *

  Antonio heard the shower running as he called out to her about some details for her shoes. He waited. No response. He thought about going in there and asking her, but she was right. He couldn’t see her naked without wanting to make love to her again.

  He searched under the bed, but didn’t find her shoes. There were a lot of plastic containers and a few boxes, but no shoes. He peered under the dressers, inside the closets, and under chairs. He found flip flops, and sneakers but no dressy heels, at least none that seemed to belong to Margot.

  He spotted her suitcase lying on its side in the corner of the room and decided to take a peek inside thinking that perhaps she packed them when she’d threatened to get a room.

  He unzipped the case, flipped it open and stood there for a moment, staring, unable to mentally register what lay inside. Not only was his copy of Oliver Twist tucked under a hairdryer, but her suitcase was filled with other rare and expensive books, he assumed all first editions. Sure there were some clothes and scarves stuffed inside, but mostly there were books. Exclusive, collector’s edition books. He opened a few of them and realized they were also signed by the author bringing up the value of each one even higher: Ulysses by James Joyce, Seven Pillars of Wisdom by T.E. Lawrence, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter, The Sun Also Rises by Earnest Hemmingway, The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammet and those were the books that sat on the top of the pile, each one encased in clear plastic bags. He didn’t want to know what others were hidden under the snarl of clothes, most of which he hadn’t seen on Margot.