by Susan Hatler
“I didn't think so.” He stepped into the room. “So are you ready for the question?”
She nodded.
“What's your favorite bug?”
He had to be kidding. “Seriously? What kind of question is that? You already know—”
“Will you just play along?” he gritted out in a long-suffering voice.
“Okay, okay.” She took a deep breath. “My favorite bug…” She paused dramatically. “Is the ladybug.”
“And why is it your favorite bug?”
“Because of its polka dots,” she groaned, remembering the day she'd complained about her mother wanting her to wear a polka dot dress. “But dots on a bug are far different than on a dress. Especially when you're fourteen and fat.”
He glared at her. “You weren't fat. You were just…well-cushioned.”
She snorted, even though Rhys, unlike Brian, made it sound like a compliment.
“Anyway, maybe you'll feel different about this.”
He brought his arm around and held out a small box wrapped in simple ivory paper. “Happy birthday, Ladybug.”
She took the box with trembling fingers and tried to blink back her tears. She didn't quite succeed. One trailed down her cheek, and he swiped it away with his thumb. He didn't question her tears, and she didn't explain them.
Sitting on the bed, she carefully removed the paper and lifted the lid off the box. Her eyes widened in disbelief when she saw what was inside. A small laugh burst out of her. “It's a bikini.”
He sat down next to her, his expression watchful, as if he wasn't sure whether she liked it. “Yeah. I saw it when I was in France. The white one you have is a whole lot more daring, but this one…” He shrugged. “I don't know. It just reminded me of you.”
She lifted the two pieces out of the box. The material was black, sprinkled with red polka dots. They weren't showy and neither was the cut of the bikini. Unlike the one she'd bought, this one would cover her where she wanted to be covered, yet it was also stylish. Hip. Sexy.
She stroked the fabric as she looked at him. “This is how you see me?”
He frowned a little. “Before I answer, do you like it?”
Happiness swelled within her. Before she could think twice about it, she lunged at him, knocking him back onto the bed even as she squeezed him. “I love it. Thank you.”
She kissed him soundly on the mouth, her laughter slowly dying as he cupped her face and brought her lips back to his. He tilted her head to find the right angle, teasing her lips open for his hungry kisses. When he pulled back a little, he smoothed her hair out of her eyes and helped her sit up. “You're as sexy as you're willing to let yourself be. Always remember that, Melina.”
He stood and shoved his hands in his pocket. “I'll finish packing and then we can go. Can you give me ten minutes?”
“No,” she said abruptly.
He froze and looked over his shoulder at her. “Excuse me?”
Getting quickly to her feet, she set the box with Rhys's gift on the bedroom dresser and placed her hands on her hips. “The bikini's wonderful, but it's not going to make me forget what you promised me yesterday. Or was that just a bunch of talk and no action?”
He was clearly flummoxed by her words as well as her aggressive attitude. “I'm not sure what you're—”
“You said I could tie you up, remember? Granted, I was tired yesterday, but I'm feeling extremely well rested now.”
Crossing his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorjamb. “What about your stomachache?”
“Gone,” she said blithely.
“So you want to…” He stared pointedly at the four-poster bed behind her.
“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to get me something to tie you up with?”
“Well, all right, then.” He straightened, his lids heavy and intense. “I've got exactly what you need.”
***
Sitting on Rhys's big bed, Melina tried to give off a carefree, sexy vibe while Rhys retrieved “what she needed” from his magic case. Every thirty seconds, doubt would creep in on her and she'd force herself to look at the bikini, still sitting on the dresser in its gift box. Forget what happened later. She was only going to think about today. Here and now. She and Rhys. And when she wore that bikini to the beach—and she would wear it—she would think of him and smile and know that for a short time, she'd had something she never thought she'd have.
Passion. Mutual passion. Even if it didn't come with unicorns and flying dragons, she knew how precious it was now. And she was never going to settle for anything less again.
“I'm baaaaack,” Rhys drawled from the doorway, and she sat up. She laughed when she saw rainbows of color fluttering in the air. In each of his hands, he held drapes of silk. Purple and green. Pink and blue.
“They look absolutely decadent,” she said.
“Wait until you feel them against your skin.”
“Nice try. But I want them against your skin. Well, at least some of your skin, anyway.”
“And the rest of me?”
A jolt of wickedness shot through her, and she knew it showed on her face when he sucked in a breath. “Let's just say I'll do my very best to make sure not a single inch of you feels neglected.”
***
Rhys had been sexually active for fifteen years, and in that time he'd often heard talk of pleasure so intense you actually thought you could die from it. He'd never actually experienced it himself. Not until now.
Not until Melina.
Something had changed in her, Rhys thought. He'd seen the insecurity on her face. Had suspected she was about to back off before he'd waved the scarves at her. But whatever doubts she'd had were gone. She seemed determined to touch all of him, taste all of him, drive him mad with desire—and she was doing one hell of a job.
She'd tied his hands and feet to the bed with secure knots that he could still manage to escape, but escape was the last thing he was thinking of. Starting at his feet and working her way up, she'd proved herself to be a woman of her word. Not a single inch of his body had been neglected so far. She'd even discovered an area behind his knee that was an erogenous zone. As she kissed his inner thigh, his cock jerked in anticipation, and he groaned with pleasure when he actually felt sperm well out, undeniable evidence that he was barely hanging on to his control. She smiled when she saw the drop of cum crown his cockhead. “Mmm,” she breathed. “Yummy.”
“Oh, God,” he gasped a second before her mouth slid over him like a hot, slick vice. The lash of her tongue against his slit made his hips arch, and he marveled that he didn't blow the second she started suckling him. The wet noise of her mouth combined with her persistent hums of pleasure. He arched his hips, trying to feed her more of himself, but she focused her attention just on the tip. He strained against the scarves. “Deeper. Take more of me. Please.”
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes and instead of taking him deeper, she slowly eased her mouth off him completely. He barely held back his whimper of distress. “Where do you want to be, Rhys? Deeper in my mouth? Or deeper someplace else?”
His eyes widened slightly at her words. At the pure sexual confidence that dripped off them. Tying him down was obviously working for her. And it sure as hell worked for him. “How about we start with your mouth and explore the options from there?”
With a laugh, she bent to place her mouth on him again, but he snapped, “No.”
Her confused gaze jerked to his.
Part of him thought he was a fool. How could he deprive himself of even one second of her mouth on him?
But the other part of him was picturing something so magnificent, he couldn't let it go. “Remember what I said before? I'm not just going to lie here and let you pleasure me, Melina.”
Now it was her eyes that widened. She pursed her lips as she ran her gaze over his body. “From the looks of things, I don't think you have any choice in the matter.”
Damn, he liked her feisty.
“You're wrong,” he said calmly.
With a challenging arch of one brow, she bent until her breath tickled his cock. Then she took him. Deeply. She worked her mouth over him in every way imaginable. Shallow and deep. Fast and slow. Tenderly and with a wild aggression that allowed him to feel the edge of her teeth against his sensitive shaft and the bite of her nails against his balls. He didn't even try to hold back his moans of pleasure. His throat was actually sore by the time she backed off, her lips red and chapped, her eyes dilated with her own desire.
“Now what was it you were saying about being wrong?”
He had to suck in several breaths before he could speak. “Just biding…my time, baby.”
“Is that right?” She gripped him tightly and stroked him. He knew he was about thirty seconds from shooting his load all over her hand.
“That's right,” he said, struggling to sound in control. “Because I can see your pussy juice glistening on your thighs. And I'm going to lick it up even as you take my cock in your mouth again. You ever do the sixty-nine, Melina?”
He wasn't surprised when she licked her lips and shook her head. “It never looked particularly appealing to me.”
“That's something else you need a lesson on. Now put yourself over me. I've worked up quite an appetite in the past few minutes.”
She hesitated and released him. “Rhys, why don't I—”
“Now, Melina,” he said firmly. He knew why most women didn't like doing the sixty-nine. It exposed them. Made them feel unsure of themselves. Awkward. He wanted everything Melina was. The confidence and the insecurity. The grace and the awkwardness. But there'd be no hiding for her, just like there'd be no hiding for him. “I want you against me. Over me. On my tongue. And it's what you want, too, isn't it?”
“Yes,” she whispered.
“Then give us what we both want, baby.”
Moving slowly, she got in position. He waited until she seemed comfortable. Until she tentatively took him inside her mouth again. Until she started to lose herself in the act of pleasing him.
Then, raising his head, he buried his face in her sweet muskiness. Lapping gently, he swiped through the drenched folds left vulnerable by her recent waxing. Deliberately, he stayed away from the hard knot that crested her core until she was pushing herself down on him and begging. He gave her what she wanted, manipulating her clit with his tongue and teeth until she was sobbing. At the same time, her mouth tightened on his cock as she tried to draw the cum out of his balls.
His body tightened when the pleasure came rushing at him. Before he exploded, he managed to plunge his tongue inside her, detonating her own release so it coincided perfectly with his. In that instance, his entire world became Melina. He shouted her name even as she shouted his.
Chapter Eleven
Dalton's Magic Rule #12: When all else fails, pull out the rabbit.
“Tell me you're joking, Max. Please.”
At Rhys's urgent tone, Melina's eyes popped open. Her gaze quickly swept the room, taking in the scarves that still dangled from the bedposts, as well as her packed suitcase next to the bedroom door, which was cracked open slightly. Sitting up gingerly, she swung her legs off the bed and quickly put on her clothes.
She opened the door and saw Rhys pacing as he talked on his cell phone.
“Can't they wait until after the Seven Seas performance?” He paused, ran a hand through his hair, then began pacing again. “I know you can't time something like that, but she signed a contract. No, I'm not saying I'm going to sue her, but what does she expect us to do? We hired her specifically because she was shorter than the other girls. That's what the act needs—someone who's about five-four.” He scoffed, held the phone away from him as if he wanted to throw it against the wall, then snapped it back up to his ear. “Do you know how much time it would take to modify it? Well, I do. A lot.”
At his increasing distress, Melina stepped out of the room and caught his eye. She motioned to him in a “what's going on?” gesture. He briefly closed his eyes, held up a finger, then told Max, “I'm in Lake Shasta with Melina. I've got to get her home and then I'll catch my flight. I'll see you there before midnight.” He paused, glancing at Melina before he quietly said, “No.”
He disconnected the call.
“I'm sorry about that. I've got to leave immediately and do some damage control.”
“One of your assistants can't perform?”
“She's decided to show her ex that she's serious about reconciliation and that means she's quitting traveling immediately.”
“And she's the only girl who can assist with the trick?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes all scrunched up as if he was in pain. “Yeah.”
“Can't you just do a different trick?”
“Sure. It's just this trick is pretty spectacular. I think if we nailed it, we'd blow Seven Seas out of the water. Without it…” He sighed and shook his head. “I don't know if it'll be enough. We're competing against some pretty good acts, including the Salvador brothers. They'll be unveiling a new trick, too.”
Appearing as if he'd suddenly lost the strength to stand, he moved to the sofa, dropped onto it, leaned his head back, and stared at the ceiling. He looked so defeated that she rushed to sit beside him and hold his hand.
“I worked so hard on this one. But, hey,” he said, looking at her with a strained smile. “Maybe this is a sign that the sea's not for me. We've got our established circuit. We'll just keep working at it.”
“Why is this contract so important to you? Sure, it's prestigious, but you're so successful already.”
“It's not just the prestige. It's having the best of both worlds, or as close as you can get. Stability as well as the thrill of performing. Even if that stability's on a cruise ship, it's still better than packing up and then unpacking again every few weeks.”
She looked around her, at the house Rhys had restored and essentially kept to himself. His complexity was also his weakness. How could he fulfill his thirst for adventure when he equally craved roots to hold him down? She supposed Seven Seas was the perfect solution.
“I'm so sorry, Rhys,” she said, not knowing what else to say. “But I'm sure your other tricks will wow Seven Seas, too.”
He took a deep breath and patted her hand absently. “Thanks.” His eyes focused, as if he was actually seeing her for the first time since she'd walked out of the bedroom. He kissed her gently. “Thank you for everything.” Closing his eyes, he leaned his forehead against her, his breaths steady and quiet. Finally, he lifted his head. “You ready?” He got to his feet and held out his hand.
She automatically took it and stood, even as she strained to think of a solution to Rhys's problem. There must be something they could do. That she could do.
She froze. What she was thinking seemed almost laughable, but what other options did they have? She gripped his hand. “Rhys, you said Seven Seas is coming for one of your shows. Which one?”
“The opening night. This Wednesday.”
“So that's the one that's really important in terms of that particular trick.”
“Yeah, but like I said, the chances of modifying the apparatus by then are slim.”
“What if you don't have to modify it? Can you just train someone who's the right size?”
“I suppose, but who am I going to find now?” He shook his head. “Like I said, we'll figure it—”
“I'm five-four.”
He released her hand. “Huh?”
“I said, I'm five-four. I can…I can stand in for your assistant if that would help. I'm sure I'm heavier than her, though. And I'm absolutely not a performer, but...”
She trailed off. He didn't say anything. He didn't move. He just stared at her, his expression stunned. She could feel herself turning red with embarrassment. “You know, it was a stupid idea—”
“You'd do that for me?” he asked. “Get up in front of a theater of strangers and let me tie you up?”
“Wel
l, I'd rather not think of the strangers right now—”
“What about work? You said you had to get back, and to have a shot of pulling it off, I'd need you right away so we could rehearse.”
“When would you need me by?”
“Tonight. Tomorrow at the latest.”
“So you can drive me home, I'll pack, call into work in the morning, and fly out tomorrow.”
“Why would you do that?”
She moved toward him, not stopping until she was close enough to take his hands and kiss them. “How can you ask me that? I know how much this contract means to you. If I can do anything to help you get it, I will.” She dropped her hands and stepped back. “I feel a little silly, though. I mean, me on stage? If you want to say thank you and forget it, I understand.”
He took her hands again. “Thank you,” he said. “And I think—”
He paused, and she held her breath, waiting for him to reject her.
“I think you'll be perfect on stage.”
All she felt was relief. And joy. “Really?”
“Yes.”
She jumped up and down in her excitement, her insecurity momentarily forgotten. “Okay, then let's do it.”
She broke away from him and rushed to her bedroom to get her suitcase. He turned to get his own stuff, stopping when she called out, “Oh, and Rhys?”
“Yeah?”
“I just want to make something perfectly clear.”
Wariness crossed his face. “What?”
“I'm absolutely not doing anything topless.”
His mouth quirked. “You sure? Because, man, with your body, we would definitely draw in some—”
“Rhys…” she drawled warningly.
“Okay, sure. No going topless. But that only applies on stage, right?”
“You have somewhere else in mind?”
“Oh, I've definitely got several places in mind.”
Her eyes rounded. “As long as we don't have an audience, I think we can make things work.”
“That's fine with me. I do my best work one-on-one, anyway.”
Chapter Twelve
Dalton's Magic Rule #13: Draw out the tension until the big finish.