Shayla Black - [Wicked Lovers 02]

by Decadent

  With a gentle push, he took his hands off her and urged her out of the kitchen, back into the living room, then down the hall, grabbing her bright blue duffel bag.

  Hoisting it on his shoulder, he looked back at her. “There are two bedrooms and an office at the end of the hall. Luc’s is the larger, since he lives here full-time. I’m only here when I’m between assignments or, like now, recovering from an injury.”

  “What happened?”

  Deke couldn’t mistake the concern in her voice or the way it made him want to pin her to a wall and kiss her. Not just fuck her. He still wanted to—bad. But her little show of care lured him in a way he wasn’t familiar with, but was still every bit as effective as a top-of-the-line rod and reel.

  If he wasn’t careful, he would fall for her hook, line, and sinker, to quote a cliché. He’d been there, done that with Heather, and he’d love to burn his souvenir T-shirt, but his memories wouldn’t let him. Instead, he hung it in his mental closet, determined not to fuck up again.

  “Some asshole with a knife wanted to demonstrate his Zorro impression using my ribs. Twelve stitches and a tetanus shot later, I’m good as new.”

  “You and Dad are in a dangerous business.”

  “Beats the hell out of sitting behind a desk.”

  “Depends on your perspective, but I know you men of action always need some ass to kick.”

  Deke couldn’t help the smile tugging across his mouth. “Damn straight.”

  A few steps later, he shoved a door open to reveal a smallish bedroom with white walls. It held a double bed, a chair, a reading lamp, and a desk with a laptop. It would never win interior design awards, but it worked for him.

  “This is your room.” It wasn’t a guess; she knew it.

  “Yep.”

  “It looks like you.”

  “Dull?” he baited.

  “Hardly.” She laughed. “I could call you a lot of things, but never dull.”

  The slightly breathy pitch of her voice was still going straight to his cock. He’d never been much for peaches, but right now the smell of her was rushing all his blood south. Damn, Luc always made dinner with company a grand affair. How the hell would he make it through the whole meal without throwing Kimber up on the table and eating her instead?

  “It’s functional, clean, uncomplicated. You’d appreciate those qualities.”

  Oh, shit. She’d guessed a lot about him when he wasn’t looking. That dangerous feeling of wanting to kiss her returned, along with an urge to hold her close just for the pleasure of feeling her against him. Bad. Stupid. Wrong. Not happening. He’d taste her sweet kiss before he fucked her ass, but affection—out of the question. Kimber would take it the wrong way.

  Hell, he might, too.

  “Exactly,” he murmured and shut the door.

  Across the hall, he eased open the door to Luc’s office. With its deep burgundy walls and dark woods, etched glass and brass accents, it resembled an elegant gentleman’s establishment of old—but with a cutting-edge desktop, speaker phone, and a printer/scanner/fax machine. A tobacco-colored desk chair in leather presided over a masculine walnut desk and bookshelves, inlaid with lighter woods on the top and sides with something Luc had called a medallion.

  “Wow,” Kimber breathed. “This is gorgeous. Luc has wonderful taste.”

  Why did women always say that? Normally, men with “wonderful taste” were gay, but he knew firsthand that Luc was as straight as he was.

  For the first time in ages—no, ever—Deke regretted Luc’s heterosexuality. If not for that and his interest in Kimber, Deke might find a way to have her all to himself, legs spread from one end of the bed to the other while he alone climbed between them and fucked her.

  No! In all the ways that mattered, she was his worst memory come back to life. Not that she actually was Heather, but . . . close enough. Like he had for the past twelve years, since that terrible summer, he was going to share the woman and just be happy for the great sex.

  “Luc enjoys decorating and cooking and shit.”

  “He’s wonderful.” Her hazel eyes lit up as they traveled the room.

  Deke shoved aside a prickle of irritation. Luc was damn good with cooking and decorating, so of course, she was going to be impressed. But she’d come here for sex, and he vowed that when it came to that, he’d impress the hell out of her.

  Pivoting, he exited the office and made his way to the end of the hall. He shoved the door open and tossed her duffel bag in. “This is Luc’s room.”

  Spacious, an eclectic blend of modern and Tuscan, technology and Old World. Taupes, olives, and gold with a splash of red, along with a cozy king-sized bed, invited women to come in and get . . . comfortable.

  It bothered him like hell that Kimber wouldn’t be the exception.

  She glanced at her bag on the floor of Luc’s room, then at his bed. “I’ll be staying here?”

  Deke swallowed and tried not to picture Kimber naked on Luc’s bed, tried not to picture the two of them alone sleeping, touching, fucking, while a few walls separated him. The thought charged a violent surge of fury all the way to his fists. He clenched them to keep still.

  Kimber sleeping with Luc . . . it was better this way. Less temptation. Luc slept like the dead most nights. Deke didn’t have that luxury. And if he wasn’t lying right next to the woman who’d most revved his libido in the last decade when the next sleepless midnight rolled around, he couldn’t caress her silken skin, whisper naughty suggestions to her, and sweet-talk his way into her pussy. And he’d want to. Hell, he wanted to now.

  Bad, bad sign.

  “Yeah. Luc has the bigger bed. I sometimes have trouble sleeping. I wouldn’t want to keep you awake.”

  Kimber turned slowly and shot him a considering stare. “I know you think I’m making a mistake, and that you’re not thrilled about helping me . . .”

  She was both right and wrong. Her being here, learning from him and Luc, it was a double-edged sword. Deke did think she was making a mistake. Kimber just didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who could make ménage a way of life. But to indulge his purely selfish need to touch her, he’d give her a thorough education. Still, he hated like hell that she wanted to learn all about ménage so she could please pretty-boy Jesse McCall—a rock star who likely had a willing hoard of groupies in every city around the globe and would eventually break her heart. Hell, as long as he was being honest, he didn’t even want to share her with Luc.

  Whoa! They were more like brothers than cousins, and since that disastrous summer with Heather, he and Luc had shared damn near everything, damn near every woman. And here he was admitting that he wanted Kimber all to himself.

  Confession couldn’t be good for his soul, Deke decided, since he felt like shit.

  Kimber reached out, touched his arm, making him want to crawl out of his clothes and put her flat on Luc’s bed. Fuck dinner. Some crazed part of him was nearly ready to ditch his resolution never again to take a woman to bed alone.

  “But,” she murmured, “I’m not trying to make your life difficult. I promise. I know you don’t really want me here.”

  No, he really did want her here, way more than he should. And Kimber was a smart girl; she’d figure that out before too long.

  “It’s fine.”

  He shut the door to Luc’s bedroom—and the disturbing images of his cousin and Kimber entwined alone together—then stomped back down the hall. They passed through the living room again, then down another hall.

  “Game room.” He pointed to the spacious room with a minibar and a pool table that, thanks to Luc, managed to have enough class to avoid looking like it belonged in a bachelor pad.

  “Den.” Deke pointed to another room that held a big-screen TV, a pair of leather sofas, a couple of gaming consoles—and perfectly masculine window treatments.

  Leave it to Luc to think that a man’s domain needed freakin’ drapes.

  “We chill here. There’s a library of both books and
movies on the shelves along the back wall. So if you’re ever bored . . .”

  “Thanks. Right now, I’m studying for my nursing exams so I imagine a lot of my time will be devoted to that, at least when we’re not . . . busy.”

  Color flushed her cheeks again. Her perfectly pale skin didn’t allow her to hide from much. The thought thrilled him. The more aroused she got the rosier her skin would turn. Damn, what a fucking turn-on.

  Deke ducked behind one of the sofas to hide his erection and grimaced. How the hell was he going to hold it together through the two-hour affair Luc liked to make out of dinner? At the moment, he’d give anything for fast-food burgers—as long as everyone was willing to eat them naked.

  “During most days, it’s quiet in here, so it will be a good place to study. Now you’ve seen pretty much the whole house. There’s a hot tub outside.”

  She frowned. “Dang it, I didn’t bring a suit.”

  “Even if you had, you wouldn’t be wearing it.”

  “Oh. Well”—sexual awareness dawned, brightening her hazel eyes— “I see.”

  She sipped her wine, then bit her lip again, and Deke was damn near ready to leap over the couch, pin her to a wall, and get her out of her clothes.

  “That makes sense.” She sent him a flustered smile. “You’re going to see everything, anyway.”

  Yeah. He was going to do a lot more than see it. That moment couldn’t come soon enough for him.

  “Dinner!” Luc yelled from the kitchen.

  Thankful to commence the next two hours of razor-sharp anticipation so they could get on to the big show, Deke walked Kimber back to the center of the house. Luc waited there for them, with a full spread. His cousin seated Kimber, pushing in her chair like a gentleman. Damn, why hadn’t he thought of that?

  Trying not to sulk, Deke dropped down into his seat, watching as Luc dished up her food, refilled her wine, smiled, flirted, casually touched— and made him mad as hell. Kimber blushed and smiled and hung on his every word, which only pissed him off more. He needed to get a grip and get over her. She was here for sex. Period. Who cared that he wasn’t Sir Galahad?

  But later, when they got naked and in bed, Deke intended to prove that while Luc’s nicer qualities were all well and good, they weren’t going to flip her switch. Deke was tuned into her. He could damn near see her eagerness escalating, clawing through her body.

  He’d use her desires to make her come so many times she’d lose count. And he vowed that his name would be the last word on her lips.

  Chapter Four

  DINNER was scrumptious—and entirely too long.

  Luc could cook, no doubt about that. He’d mastered an art that amazed Kimber, since she could barely boil water. Most of the “feminine arts” had escaped her. The by-product of growing up with men always on top-secret missions and paranoid about safety. Honestly, she was shocked that the lace top and skirt she’d worn tonight hadn’t given her hives. But the reality was, she knew more about firearms than couture. More about martial arts than makeup. That had made romance everything from challenging to a big joke in the past. She only hoped that, since Deke and Luc were tutoring her, not dating her, that they wouldn’t mind the same way Jesse didn’t mind.

  “Did you like dinner?” Luc asked.

  Like it? She was totally impressed by Luc’s culinary expertise. He’d earned his international reputation.

  But after nearly two hours of rich food, small talk, and everyone avoiding the unspoken topic hanging heavy in the room—the coming night and what it would bring—Kimber’s nerves were sharper than any of Luc’s fancy kitchen knives. She couldn’t take the anticipation building inside her, the bubbling testosterone all around, the thick heat sliding between her legs.

  Based on the monosyllables Deke had replied with for the past hour, she guessed he was more than ready to adjourn to the bedroom.

  Either that or he still wasn’t happy to have her there.

  Kimber shrugged off the unpleasant thought. “Dinner was wonderful. Thanks for a lovely meal, Luc. Everything was truly spectacular.”

  “More wine?” The words formed a polite question, but his eyes . . . they danced with mischief, as if he’d asked the question merely to toy with her.

  “No thanks. Two glasses is my limit or I fall asleep.”

  “Sherry, then?”

  A ghost of a smile curved that full, sinful red mouth of his. Luc was beautiful, sensual, playful, easy to talk to, cultured, curious. Shocking that some bright woman hadn’t snapped him up ages ago.

  But right now, she wanted to strangle the man for prolonging her agony.

  “No more for me.”

  Luc stood and cleared his plate, setting it on the counter and reaching for some decadent chocolate confection. “Dessert? I can make coffee, if you want. I have cinnamon hazelnut, French-roasted vanilla—”

  “I appreciate your effort, but I’d just like the two of you in bed.”

  Luc stopped in the middle of the kitchen, dishes in hand. Deke sucked in a sharp breath. Neither moved.

  Oh, no. Had she misread the vibes? They’d seemed interested. Deke had barely managed civil conversation, and those burning eyes of his had damn near charred her appetite. Luc had flirted, touching her hands, bumping her knee, feeding her from his fork.

  Kimber glanced across the kitchen. Luc had hardened, damn near bursting the front of his slacks. To her left, a chair scraped across the floor, disturbing the dead silence. Deke stood, and she discovered he was in the same state as his cousin—tense, erect, ready.

  That meant she hadn’t misread the situation, right? Or maybe not . . . Maybe Deke’s desire hadn’t totally tackled his reluctance. Maybe Luc was having second thoughts.

  Damn it, she didn’t know. Inexperience wasn’t helpful just now.

  “I-I’m sorry if that’s too blunt,” she apologized. “I’m not used to tempering what I say, since my family never does, so I—”

  “Let’s go.” Deke grabbed her hand and tugged on her arm, nearly dragging her out of the kitchen in his haste.

  “To bed?”

  “Hell, yeah!”

  Deke did want her. Excitement jolted her, screaming through her blood.

  Now. The time had come. She was going to learn about men and sex and something beyond self-pleasure—and she was going to learn it at the hands of two of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. With the arousal bubbling in her body now, she didn’t think accepting a ménage would disturb her in the least. She’d learn all about it so that when Jesse returned to Texas in a few weeks, she would know exactly what he needed and how to give it to him. He’d race to pursue deepening their special connection because she’d no longer be too innocent to deal with his lifestyle.

  Luc tried to look put out. “I spent a lot of time making this torte.”

  Kimber tossed a teasing glance over her shoulder. “It’ll make a great midnight snack.”

  “It will if you let me eat it off your breasts,” Luc murmured, stalking closer.

  She sent him a giddy laugh. “Only if you promise to lick off every crumb.”

  Luc said something and started after her, but she couldn’t hear, since Deke was already pulling her down the hall, toward Luc’s wide bed. In less than thirty seconds, she was flat on her back, with Deke’s big body covering hers, his knees spreading her legs wide.

  His mouth swooped over hers before the bed stopped bouncing. He nudged her lips apart and plunged deep into the kiss, engaging her, igniting her. Kimber threw her arms around his neck and lost herself in his spiced flavor and his touch. Demand tinged with desperation; she tasted it. His impatient lust flowed with every hot swipe of his tongue against hers, every bunching of his hard shoulders under her fingers.

  He urged her legs apart even more and settled his cock directly against her. Oh, he felt good. No, more than good. Wildly arousing. He fit as if he’d been made to occupy the cradle of her thighs. And when he pushed against her, bumping her clit, she gasped into the kiss, s
tunned that he could raise such sexual havoc in a handful of heartbeats. He swallowed her response, and with another grind against her, demanded more.

  To her right, the bed dipped again. Heat blasted her, coming closer with each second, until another hard male body plastered itself against her side. Luc. Shirtless, she discovered as she reached out to touch him.

  Her fingers encountered skin as soft as suede over steel-honed muscles. Then his midnight hair, gloriously loose and hanging around his wide, bronzed shoulders.

  Luc planted a series of soft kisses on her cheek and down her neck as he worked a hand in between her and Deke, until he found the hard point of her nipple through her shirt and caressed her. A sweet ache pooled there, tingling, lingering. Moisture gushed between her legs. Oh wow!

  Deke tore away from his possession of her mouth long enough to taste the skin of her neck, nibble on her collarbone.

  A shaky sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes fluttered open, settling on Luc and his chocolate eyes melting her, watching her, inviting her to sin. She threaded her fingers through the loose, inky hair. Luc looked like a gentleman pirate—barely tamed, sensual, promising pleasure—willing to take whatever he wanted. Kimber’s breath caught as he moved closer.

  Then Deke distracted her as he plowed into the buttons of her lacy blouse, swept both halves of the flimsy garment aside, then shoved her bra up, exposing her to his ravenous gaze. He covered her breast with one huge palm. Kimber sucked in a sharp breath at the lightning contact. Deke didn’t pause to let her catch up. He simply lifted her breast, testing its weight, then brushed his thumb over the taut tip. Tingles erupted again.

  Kimber had almost no time to be overwhelmed by Deke’s fondling before Luc’s mouth settled over her own. Like a maestro, he played her with his kisses. Soft strains at first—a gentle brush of lips, a teasing lick of her bottom lip, a sexy sigh as he pressed her mouth open, taunting her with the notion that he might take the addicting kiss deeper. But he didn’t.