He made a despairing sound and dragged her close, finally managing to unclip her bra. Then he returned the kiss, taking her in a hard embrace that told her how much he wanted her. She backed up, smiling. “Already?”
“Already.”
She took another step backward, glancing behind her. Yes, she was headed the right way, toward the shower. He had a large shower in one corner of the room, plenty of room for two. “Are you into threesomes? Because it’s only right to tell you that I’m not as experienced as I made it sound.”
He watched her while he stripped off his clothes, letting the garments fall to the tiled floor, made slippery by the overfilled tub and Alice’s subsequent huff. “Keep going, sweetheart. Get in the shower.”
She glanced around and took the two steps that took her inside. He got there almost as fast as she did, and reached over her to flip on the master switch and hit a couple of buttons. He had a full-body shower, but he turned off the overhead. She stretched out her arms and he took the opportunity to slip his arms around her waist and reach up to cup her breasts. “Wow, I love this,” she said.
“Me too.” Now was as good a time as any to ask her. “You could use this shower every day if you wanted to.” He concentrated on caressing her breasts, separating his index and middle fingers to catch her nipples between them and tug.
“I only live across the park.”
“How about making that a bit closer?” He snuggled her close and slid one hand down her body, the water cascading over her taut skin.
She shivered and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I can’t think straight when you do that. But don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop.”
He stroked her cleft, down one side, up the other, exploring every fold, careful to avoid her clit and opening, teasing her. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
“Touch me. Touch my clit like you did in the store. Only this time we’re not stopping there.”
“You betcha. Lean forward, sweetheart. Hold on to the handles.” They’d installed them with the shower unit, and he’d never bothered to have them taken out. A safety feature, they’d told him. Now he was glad because finally he’d found a use for them. Long, brushed chrome handles meant for people unsteady on their feet. By the end of this shower he intended her to get pretty damned unsteady. “Spread your legs.”
She shifted, gingerly at first, but the shower had studded tiles underfoot to provide a foothold. He had the lady of his dreams with him and willing. And he was going to keep her here if he had to tie her to the bed.
Well now, that had possibilities…
This time he’d remembered to grab a condom from the store he kept in the cupboard where she’d searched for a hair clip. Which reminded him. He’d let her keep her hair up for now, but he wanted it down and over him when he took her to bed. He loved the way she tangled him in the strands, how he had to pick them off his chest if he wanted to get up without waking her.
He opened the packet and sheathed his cock. He watched her all the time, the wet, inviting pink cleft between her legs, the smooth muscles of her lightly tanned back begging for his touch.
He grasped her waist, pulled her back and slid his cock between her legs, bending his legs to get a better angle. He took his time, touched her clit with the tip of his cock. They both groaned. “Don’t tease,” she gasped. He made a soft sound halfway between a sigh and a groan before leaning forward to kiss her between the shoulder blades. He let his tongue play there, searching for any sensitive spots. He found one. She expelled her breath in a long hiss.
He had to take his cock in hand to insert it that precious half inch inside her soaking pussy. Her hands tightened on the handles, her knuckles turning white. “So good.” She whispered it so low he could hardly hear her. “Get in. Right in.”
He didn’t need to hear that to do as she demanded. He entered bliss.
Inside lay perfection. She tilted her bottom up a little and together they found the right spot, the sweet spot. Now all he had to do was not come until she did. Not hard, surely. But the sight of her beautiful ass shaking in time with his strokes and the feel of his balls slapping against her flesh very nearly had him coming far too soon. Maybe he could think of something else. No, not possible.
He leaned forward and kissed the bump of bone at the top of her back. Her sighs sounded like the most melodious symphony he’d ever heard. He kissed down her spine, counting every nub, but when he reached the base he was fresh out of ideas. But she was close. He felt the flutter of her inner muscles as they began to spasm.
And then they clenched his cock, hard, and he was a goner. All he could do was hold on to her and enjoy the surges of sensation as he emptied himself into her. Body, heart and soul, she took it all.
They woke up in his bed a couple of hours later. He rolled over and found her there. The pleasure made him sure he wanted her here for the foreseeable future. He leaned up on one elbow and kissed her. She smiled up at him dreamily, but he knew her expression was reflected in his face. “You look good here, in my bed.”
“Mmm. It feels nice.”
“Move in with me.”
“What?” Her eyes clouded with bewilderment and he could have kicked himself. He hadn’t meant to ask her quite so abruptly. But yeah, he’d started now.
“I want to make sure you’re safe. With a mad bomber on the loose—”
“Wait a minute.” She spread her hand over his chest. He wanted to wriggle, to get her to stroke him. He refrained. “For a start, the mad bomber’s in Italy, not here. And considering what happened when we came in here, I don’t think this is the safest apartment block in New York, do you?”
He grimaced. Alice had damaged him in more ways than she knew. He hoped she wouldn’t hear about that part, otherwise she might gloat. “The concierge here knows Alice. She probably got the keys from my mother. I left her a set in case I locked myself out. The concierge has a set locked up so tight it’s easier to try to break in. I have alarms set.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And Alice knows how to disarm them?”
He glanced away, then back at her face. “No. I forgot to set them this morning. But I promise, while you’re with me, we’ll go armed.”
“You have a gun?”
“I have a license. I can get one.” He wanted her to stay here so badly, but he’d started his campaign wrong. If he pushed her now, she’d say no. So he dropped a kiss on her nose and another on her mouth. “Think about it. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”
“And you don’t think I’m safe at the Dakota?”
He saw the shadow cross her face, the way she tightened the muscles around her mouth before taking a breath and relaxing them. “Lina? What is it?”
She swallowed, then looked back. “I swore once that I’d never live with my mother again. Do you know what went on in that house?”
He gazed at her, didn’t take his attention away for one minute. They were about to pass some kind of barrier, he was sure. He saw decision and indecision mixed, but he couldn’t force her. “Tell me. I know nothing about that.”
“Why do you think I got engaged to Hanson?”
It was so long since he’d thought about it that he had to make an effort to remember. “You got engaged to a man forty years older than you were. I thought you’d done it as a joke. Then, after you left with Byron, I thought maybe your mom had pushed you into it. Everyone knew she was short of money by the time you left.” He paused. “Did she know about your trust fund?”
She let out a breath. The warmth fluttered against his cheek. “I think so. I didn’t. The fund said that I either had to be over twenty-five, or married to a respectable man, one the board administering the fund approved of before I could get control. The interest went back into the fund so my mother couldn’t even get hold of that. I guess my father thought he’d left my mother enough for us both until I got to a responsible age. We would have done, if my mother hadn’t been such a spendthrift.”
“You helped.”
“Yes, I did.” She gave a wry grin but it faded fast and the expression on her face changed to a haunted one.
He stroked her skin, feeling helpless, hoping that it would help her some. He had to hear this. His throat tightened when he considered the possibilities. What had happened. What she’d done.
She spoke quietly but steadily and met his gaze all the way through. “When I was sixteen, my mother introduced one of her boyfriends to me. That must have been when the money started getting tight. I didn’t want to know him, didn’t want to do it, so they got me drunk. I woke up next to him in the morning.”
He didn’t think he could speak. Slow-burning rage crept through his body and he welcomed it. If he’d had that gun now, he’d have gone across the park and found her mother.
She swallowed, but carried on, despite the tears moistening her eyes. He wanted to stop her, but she needed to tell him and he had to hear. There couldn’t be any secrets between them. Not secrets this toxic, anyway. That she’d chosen to trust him this far humbled him. “He’d been kind, I guess, but I’d still call it rape. He was twenty years older than me, and he thought it was a joke, having mother and daughter. When he left, someone else took his place.”
He didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know any more, yet he had no choice but to listen. “Were there others?”
She nodded. “I hated it. I never did go for the older man, I guess.” She forced a smile. He’d never felt less like laughing. “Some were kind, some were brutal. I guess I’ve been raped, yes. Then Byron found out.”
“Oh, fuck.” Byron the idealist.
“I persuaded him it was fun, what I wanted, because he’d have tried to kill them. That’s why we originally started dating. I could hide behind him and it meant she wouldn’t find me any more men. My mother encouraged him—he was rich, you see, and from a rich family, old money too. She saw our relationship as two fingers to the WASPs. She never saw that she was ostracized as much for her behavior as for her birth and background. She’s related to Italian aristocracy, you know, and she’s a bigger snob than anyone I’ve ever met. So Byron became my boyfriend. And he knew where to get the really good stuff.” She swallowed again. “It helped.”
He’d bet. It helped her forget and put up with the travesty her mother was making of both their lives. It helped put a fuzzy screen between her and what was happening to her. “So that’s why you got engaged to Hanson?”
“He fucked me, then he wanted to marry me. By then my mother didn’t care. She just wanted money.”
She pulled back and stared at him, waiting.
He knew what she expected. She thought he’d reject her. But he couldn’t. Mustn’t. If he did, she could fall back to what she had been and the thought of her doing that broke his heart. So he pulled her back, urged her to rest against him. “You took the drugs to escape.”
“Something like that.” She laughed bitterly. “Poor little rich girl, right? But apart from that, everything was good. I didn’t starve, I could shop until I dropped because I had no idea we were so broke, and I had friends. I partied. So it wasn’t all bad.”
“So why did you run away?” And he knew nothing? Byron hadn’t told him because by then the rift between the brothers was too strong to break. He’d never forgive himself that this was going on under his nose and he had no idea.
Her body nestled against his, her nipples pressing against his chest, her legs twining with his. The muscles in her legs tightened and her back stiffened. “That day, Mom said she’d had enough. Said the money had run out and I had to marry Hanson or force Byron to propose. Marty Hanson had money, you see, and he wanted me. He’d had me, but he thought I’d make a great trophy wife. Arm candy. All that. She didn’t give me a choice. And I knew if I said no, she’d drug me and I’d do it anyway. Or even worse, she’d take my drugs away.” He heard the sob in her voice, but no tears came.
“She provided your dope?”
“No, but she knew I used, and she’d found my works, so she knew I was shooting up by then. She could have cut off my supply. My mother never took drugs, or only did it socially. She prefers alcohol. So she had a threat. She could have me arrested. That night she made that threat. Hanson, Byron or the cops. I chose Hanson.”
When she shuddered, he kissed the top of her head, held her, murmured soothing words while he blazed with fury. A shame Hanson was dead—no it wasn’t. But he’d never willingly share the same air with her mother again. Only if he had to, to retain Lina. He’d do it for her.
“Byron said your parents had threatened to send him to a rehab unit. It scared him shitless. So we met, I told him about Hanson, he told me about his problems, and we decided we’d do it. Just go. We decided on Rome because it was the first flight we could get out of JFK, and I spoke Italian. So did Byron, a little, and he learned fast enough once we got there. At least the words he needed. Just like my mom can ask for wine in ten different languages, Byron knew the words for coke and heroin.”
“You’re telling me that last part like it happened to somebody else.”
The sheets rustled as she moved, but only to shift against him and settle in a slightly different position. “By then it was. I saw everything through a haze, like it was happening to somebody else. I didn’t feel, didn’t think. That was what I aimed for when I started taking drugs, and it finally happened. I’d made it.” She lifted her chin. “So now you know I’m a rich woman, does that affect the way you feel about me?”
“No,” he said, and because she seemed to need it, he kissed her. After that, he needed her as much as she wanted him. She always made him feel that way. One taste was never enough.
He rolled her onto her back and came on top of her, pausing, waiting for her to push him away, to show any sense of fear. But he saw none. And he felt no revulsion either, none at all. Testing it in his mind, he decided he wasn’t sure why, just that it hadn’t touched the Lina he knew. The Lina he was coming to love.
He’d left condoms on the bedside table, and he grabbed one now, but she took it off him. She tore open the package with her teeth, spitting the top aside without taking her attention off him. “You sure?”
He kissed her. “I’m always sure.”
And as she sheathed him, making him shudder with desire, he knew he’d only spoken the truth.
Chapter Sixteen
“Ah, shit, what time is it?” Lina sat up in bed, the sheets falling away. She grabbed for the watch she kept on her nightstand. Only it wasn’t there and something fell to the ground.
“Mmm?” Beside her, Jon stirred. “What?”
“I said I’d go to the Children in Crisis benefit tonight.”
The sheets rustled as he stirred and rolled away from her. “It’s only seven. You have plenty of time.”
“With my hair like this? I’ve got to go home and change.”
He sat up and reached for her. She’d grown accustomed to the dim light now, and she could see his dark shadow looming over her. How many nights had she woken up to find just that scenario? Another man, usually a lot older than she was, another body wanting a taste of her. But she knew this was Jon, and he didn’t scare her. Not at all. If she’d tried to force the emotion, it wouldn’t have worked.
A new revelation. To wake up with a body she couldn’t see properly and yet know who it was. His scent, his shape and his warmth were so uniquely Jon her body recognized him before her mind did. She couldn’t ever remember waking up in these circumstances before and not feeling afraid. But that had gone now.
She lifted her hand and found the reassuring warmth of his firm, lightly furred chest. “Are you coming?”
“Sure. I got an invite and forked out for the ticket. I wasn’t necessarily planning to go, but I’ll go if you do.”
That made her feel better. She didn’t want to go alone. “I’ll call a cab.”
She swung away but he caught her and hauled her back into his arms. “You’re not going back to the apartment, are you?”
“Sure
I am. Why not?”
“After what you told me?”
She laughed softly. Everything felt so much better now she’d told someone the whole, sordid truth. If he’d turned away from her, she’d have understood—it’d have broken her heart but she would have understood—but he didn’t. He didn’t. “You might not have noticed, but my mother’s current husband and his son weren’t in my rogue’s gallery. They’ve tamed my mother. She’s coherent most of the time, and they’ve given me a lot of kindness and consideration. For all they knew I was the instigator, I was the bad girl, but they brought me into their home.”
“Still, I don’t like it. I want you here. Lina…” His voice trailed away.
“What?” No secrets, not anymore. She couldn’t bear it, not between her and Jon.
After a pause, he told her. “I’m having Farina and his son investigated. And their company.”
“And?” She wasn’t entirely surprised. She’d already guessed how protective Jon felt of her.
“Not much. The company isn’t doing as well as they’re saying, but that’s not unusual these days. I’m looking into buying more stores, and some of the newsstands seem to be available, so I started the investigation as a standard inquiry. I don’t know. I just get the feeling that I’m missing something.”
“They live in the Dakota. Do you know what apartments in that building cost?”
“Didn’t you tell me it was a family apartment? That they’d inherited it?”
“But it also contains a number of valuable antiques.” She was torn, but eventually she told him. “The apartment is tied to the family. They can’t sell it and profit. But they could sell the contents, if they needed to, I guess. The Farinas have been nothing but kind to me.”
In fact, Gary had been more than kind. If she hadn’t had Jon, she might have accepted his offers of dinner, getting to know each other. He’d made it clear he meant as a date, not as a relative. But she didn’t feel much for him. Not enough, anyway. He’d accepted her refusals with good grace, never pushed her for more. But telling Jon might not be a good idea right now. “You’re paranoid. Or you’re jealous. You want me all to yourself, don’t you?” She gave him a teasing smile.
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