Of course, that didn’t turn out as planned either.
First I was too rough. I attacked my flesh like it had done something wrong, which only increased the need while doing nothing to ease it. Great, now I was sore and frustrated. Finally I forced myself to go slower and to think happy thoughts. The warm water soothed my previous attempts and my gentleness began to pay off. At last, progress. My breath shortened, fantasies and memories intermingling in my mind.
Bones’s hands all over me, teasing, seeking, driving me insane. The weight of his body pressing me into the bed. His mouth between my legs, tongue stroking, delving, and flicking, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Then that hard, deep thrust as he’d push himself inside me—
And him flinging open the bathroom door to come toward me. I froze in shock, my hand still jammed between my legs. Then I found my voice. “Get out!”
My demand only slowed him, but it was the conditioner bottle bouncing off his head that brought him to a stop.
“Catherine—”
The shampoo bottle beaned him next. Some of the green left his eyes as the soap followed. Then my razor. Soon I was out of items and just splashing water at him.
“But you called me in here,” he exclaimed, backing away at last.
“No, I didn’t!”
I yanked the shower curtain off, covering myself, and grasped the iron rod, burning all over with embarrassment.
That backed him all the way out. “It seems there’s been a misunderstanding—”
“Getoutofhere!”
I couldn’t even separate the syllables in my humiliation. He translated, however, and a second later, I heard the door shut. Then worse, Spade’s muffled laughter, immediately shushed by Denise.
“For crying out loud,” I hissed, the shower curtain still clinging to me. “Can’t a person masturbate in peace?”
***
The next day the adult thing would have been to go downstairs, act as if nothing had happened, and proceed about my business.
Well, who had ever accused me of acting like an adult?
I faked sleep until noon, took lunch in my room, and then watched movies with the fortitude of a professional loaf. Pleaded another headache to anyone who dared to knock and inquire. The only activity I indulged in was a shower, having reassembled mine later the previous night. It was a cold one too, my hands used for hygienic purposes only.
When evening finally came and Bones returned, his question about my whereabouts was met with Spade’s instant laughter.
“Headache, mate.” Spade didn’t bother to suppress his continued chuckles. “You might want to take my word for it. Don’t want her injuring herself booting you from her room this time.”
“Stuff it, Charles.” Bones sounded as amused as I felt. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my room.”
I stayed in bed, not wanting to make my lie more obvious by puttering around upstairs. The small, still-sane part of me argued that I couldn’t keep this up. Bones needed support, not hiding. Considering his sexual history, a little rub-in-the-tub probably didn’t even register on his dirty meter.
It took three hours of mental berating before I climbed out of bed. Another forty-five minutes of similar scolding in the bathroom, washing my face and brushing my teeth to a ridiculous level. Twenty minutes to rehearse opening lines for our conversation. Another hour of backing out before deciding to go for it. By then, however, I figured it was too late. Bones had to be asleep by now.
That brought me back to staring at the ceiling. I had every speck of knockdown on it memorized. At this hour, couples in the house were starting to get active. Trying to tune out the various noises only highlighted my loneliness. I was so engrossed in my attempts to ignore any grunty, squeaky sounds it took me a few more minutes to realize that some of them came from the next room.
At that, I shot out of bed. Pressed my ear to the wall and strained to listen. Son of a bitch, there it was! Oh, subdued, sure. Very hushed, but unmistakable feminine pants mixed with Bones’s moans.
As if in a dream, I saw myself calmly get my knife, walk the short distance to his room, and kick his door right off the hinges.
“What the hell?”
Bones was in bed. Alone, so he or the slut must have heard me coming. His covers were mussed and the TV was on, but I kept my main attention on seeking out my prey.
“Where is she?”
His gaze dropped to the knife in my hand and then the broken door near my feet. “Have you lost your wits altogether?”
“Going to play it that way? Fine.”
I darted forward, checking under the bed. Nothing. Then I yanked open the closet doors, tearing one off with my forcefulness. There went another household item, but no one was hiding in the closet. When I headed for the bathroom, Bones had his arms crossed over his chest, watching me with more than a hint of anger.
“Care to play hot or cold? Let me give you a hint: you’re freezing.”
I threw him a venomous glare and checked the bathroom anyway, keeping a wary eye on the bedroom door. No bitch was going to sneak past me. Had to be a vampire or ghoul. I didn’t hear any heartbeat except my own.
No one was in the bathroom either. Or the linen closet, which looked too small, but I checked anyway. I even knocked over the wicker laundry hamper. Only clothes. Then I circled the bed again, seeking any hiding placed I could have missed.
“Getting warmer, pet.”
A large wall unit faced the bed and it had closed sections in it. Bones nodded in that direction and I tightened my grip on the knife. If someone were to scrunch themselves up real small…
“You’re on fire.”
For someone who’d just been caught cheating, Bones didn’t sound guilty or apologetic. Instead, he sounded pissed and more than a little disgusted.
I marched toward the wall unit. Noises were coming from it. Moans, gasps, groans. Then I glanced at the TV. What—?
“You’re watching porn?” I turned to him, the beginnings of doubt creeping in.
“Take a closer look,” he said with that same harsh edge to his voice.
I gave another cursory glance at the TV screen before zeroing in on the naked male with astonishment. “You’re playing old sex tapes of yourself? What kind of a sick—”
“Careful.” Bones voice was whiplike now. “Accuse me falsely again, and I’ll turn you straight over my knee.”
I drew myself up with indignation. “I dare you to try, you porn-reminiscing perv— Ooof!”
Some things time and familiarity had dulled. What should have occurred to me as I made my taunting statement was that Bones never bluffed. Ever.
I was facedown on the bed with my mouth full of blankets before I could even yelp. Thwack! went the hard swat right on my ass.
Then Bones flipped me over and grabbed my wrists, moving his face only inches away from mine. “Now, perhaps you’ll let me explain. If you had the slightest ounce of trust, you’d have done that earlier. Instead, despite my repeated promises, you thought I was shagging another woman right under your nose, or at best amusing myself with tapes of prior lovers. I’ve killed people for lesser insults, but since you’re my wife, all you’ll get is a sore arse. Now look at the girl on the telly, Catherine!”
He used my hair as a handle to tilt my head. Left with few other options, I stared at the screen. Humph, a redhead, figures. Wait a minute…
“That’s me!”
Bones rolled off the bed with a shake of his head. “This, luv, was in the DVDs that Denise gave me, so the only crime I’ve committed tonight is to ogle my own wife. Off topic, you’re absolutely stunning naked. I thought to tell you the same last night, but the many objects hitting me in the face distracted me.”
I was still sprawled on the bed, and yes, my ass was sore. He’d whacked it with authority. For a few astounded moments, I couldn’t decide if I was angry for him daring to spank me, regretful over falsely accusing him of adultery, or flattered by his last compliment.
My own groans from the tape snapped my attention back to the television. I flushed. After making this on a whim during our boat trip to Paris, I hadn’t watched it. Frankly, with everything going on, I’d forgotten about it. Holy hell, this was graphic! We looked like a couple of coke-crazed porn stars.
“I don’t want you seeing this,” I said, striving to lose my fierce blush.
A single brow arched. “Why not?”
“Because!” I was about to detail my objection in a more reasonable manner when something new on the screen caught my eye. My gaze narrowed. “Wait a minute. This isn’t supposed to be on here. I told you to turn the camera off. You said you’d turned it off!”
Bones laughed at that, moving over to stand by the TV.
“No, in fact I didn’t. I’ve rewound this part a few times, I confess. You say, ‘I won’t do that with the camera running,’ and I reply, ‘I won’t let a bloody camera stop us from doing anything.’ Then I go to the camera, tap it, come back, and say, ‘There. Feel better?’ and, ah, you do appear to feel better, luv. But nowhere do I actually verbalize that I’ve shut it off.”
My mouth hung open farther.
Bones tapped the screen for emphasis. “We’ll rewind it, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”
It didn’t matter that the man laughing at me technically hadn’t been the one who tricked me. “You sneaky bastard, you knew I thought it was off!” I sputtered.
“Now, Catherine, I might not remember making that decision, but let me assure you, I’ll claim it. And stand by it proudly.”
That glint was back in his eyes. The one that said he was contemplating a thousand filthy things, and I’d love them all. Belatedly, it occurred to me he was naked. How could I have missed that? Having my ass whacked and then watching a skin-flick starring myself were my main two reasons.
Unable to help it, I took a good, long look. My God, but he was gorgeous. His creamy skin stretched over his hard muscles like it couldn’t get enough of touching them. Then those broad shoulders, rippling arms and chest, flat stomach and of course lower—
“You keep looking at me and licking your lips, and I’m going to get certain impressions,” he said, his voice like silk. “Are they the wrong impressions?”
Had I been licking my lips? Well, who could blame me? “Sorry, I didn’t mean to eye-hump you. It’s, er, just been more weeks than I care to count, so…” Stop talking! I groaned inwardly. It’s like you’ve got verbal diarrhea!
“Weeks?” That arched his brow higher.
I let out a sigh and tried to keep my gaze above his waist.
“I didn’t correct your misassumption before because, well, I was mad. Vlad and I never had sex. We slept together, but as friends, nothing more. So yeah, it’s been weeks, and the last time was with you.”
Bones shut the television off. Guess I had his full attention now.
“First, thank you for telling me. I’d believed otherwise, of course, from what Charles had said about interrupting the two of you in bed.”
“The only thing Spade interrupted was sleep,” I said, shrugging. “But of course he didn’t come to that conclusion.”
“I wouldn’t have either,” Bones said, sounding almost as if he didn’t believe me.
“Yeah, well, I didn’t sleep with Vlad because he wasn’t you.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to take it back. It was too honest, too raw, and in its own way, more exposing than the video he’d just watched. I dashed a hand across my suddenly stinging eyes and tried to shake it off.
“Plus I’m not that easy.” Fake, uneven laugh. “I made you wait months before you got me into bed the first time, which was probably a celibacy record for you.”
Bones still hadn’t said anything. He just stood there. Moonlight peeked through the windows, caressing parts of his body with light while the rest stayed wrapped in shadows.
I had to leave before I said anything else I regretted. I rolled off the bed. “Sorry about your door and your closet and—”
“Get back in bed.”
“What?”
He came nearer. “Get back in bed. I’m sick of tossing about, unable to sleep because I hear you, yet you’re so far away. It’s only been five nights, but it feels like a bloody year. I’m not asking for sex, Catherine. I just want to hold you while I sleep.”
I told myself it was the least I could do after smashing into his room like an angry She-Hulk to accuse him of cheating. Plus I’d just admitted to a sleepover with Vlad, so it would look petty if I denied the same request from Bones. None of those reasons were why I nodded and crawled beneath the covers though. Deep down, I needed to feel his arms around me. I’d been through a nonstop emotional ringer the past several weeks that had drained me both physically and mentally. Right now, being held by Bones sounded like the only thing that would get me through the night, let alone whatever else would be thrown at us next.
After I settled myself in bed, I set my knife on the nightstand. It had been in my hand this whole time; what a fruit loop I was. Bones gave it a brief smile and then climbed into bed, grasping me securely from behind. Our bodies were only separated by my pajamas, and feeling him pressed along the back of me filled me with the weirdest blend of comfort, desire, and complete safety. This was nothing like what I’d felt during my sleepover with Vlad. It went deeper in every way.
“I’m glad you didn’t argue with me,” he said, his deep voice lower as he rested his head next to mine.
He didn’t realize it, but this was the same way we’d fallen asleep countless times before, me in his arms with his body curved around the back of mine. My emotions might still be in turmoil, but muscle memory seemed to take over. Contentment stole through my limbs, relaxing my body in a way I would have thought impossible only a few minutes ago.
“I’m tired of fighting with you,” I replied, surprised that the words came out with drowsy slowness. When had I closed my eyes? And why was it suddenly impossible to open them?
“Good.” Something brushed my neck that was either his fingers or lips. “This is all I want now, but tomorrow night, Catherine, I’m going to seduce you.”
I let out a sleepy laugh at his bluntness, not to mention his overconfidence. “Is that a warning?”
Now I was sure it was his lips because he did it again, slower and more deliberately.
“A promise.”
***
Bones was gone when I woke up. I must have really conked out. For a little while I stayed in bed, breathing in the scent of him on the sheets while I wondered what he was doing. Zen forms of meditation or all-out brawling to test his skills? Probably both. Speaking of skills…
His gauntlet from last night shook me from my indolence. If Bones set about to do something, he accomplished it. Add my flagging willpower to the picture and I might as well wait spread-eagled for him. The thought of making love to him inspired mixed emotions. Sure, it had always been great, but as I’d told him, we’d been in love. I didn’t want sex with me to be one huge yawn to him, and he’d never admit it if he was disappointed. If only he didn’t have so many other women to compare me with.
There were a couple of ways I could handle this. First, worry myself into permanent abstinence. No nookie, no fears about whether it was good for him. That didn’t seem feasible, so I discarded it. Second, wait until any sex was great sex. Nothing like a long drought to make the first rain very appreciated. Again, however, that didn’t appear to be in the cards. A few more nights of sleeping with Bones while he was naked and I’d be spread-eagling him. Plus it wouldn’t lead to a closer relationship, and that was the goal.
Okay, that left the third option. This was going to hurt.
I returned to my room, showered, dressed, and then marched downstairs. A funeral march played in my mind because I felt like I was headed for the firing squad.
“Annette.”
My too-jovial voice made her raise her head warily. She’d been sipping tea in the parlor with Spade and Denise.
“Cat,” she
replied.
“You and I never get to chat,” I continued with a bright smile. “How about I get some wine and we have a little picnic in the yard, just the two of us, hmm?”
Now she was more than wary. Her gaze darted to Spade in a way that clearly spelled out help. However, Annette was anything except a coward.
“I’m sure that would be lovely… if you insist.”
“Done!” I flashed another broad, false smile. “Red wine or white?”
A dry laugh escaped her. “Really, dear, what do you think?”
“Red it is. See you in twenty minutes? There’s a nice shady tree behind the pool. I’ll set up there.”
Again she flicked her eyes to Spade, but he just shrugged as if to say I don’t have a bloody clue what she’s up to.
Denise watched this exchange with her forehead wrinkled in disbelief. When I headed to the computer in the other room to punch in my beverage and food requests, she followed me.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
“You know the first thing you do before planning a mission?” I replied, a brisk mentality setting in. “Field research.”
Her hazel gaze widened with comprehension. Then she laughed. “I was going to offer to go with you, but I think I’ll stay out of this. My field research days are over.”
“Yeah, well. I thought mine were too.”
***
Annette reclined on the quilt like it was a velvet dais. Even the outdoor setting didn’t diminish her sophisticated air. She could have been at the poshest restaurant waiting for her next glass of Cristal. Not on the ground with only a blanket between her and the dirt.
Outtakes From the Grave Page 33