Cursed by Chemistry (6 page)

“That’s not an option.” He put his arms around her shoulder this time and urged her toward the door. “But if you really want to stay in tonight, I’d be perfectly happy to keep you company.” He nodded. “With the wedding looming, I think we may need to practice for those momentous traditions. The kiss, the garter, maybe even the wedding night?”

A cold ladle dipped into the pit of her stomach. Why did this escort suddenly feel like a serial killer ushering her into his basement?

Oh, I remember.

At the beginning of their relationship, Richard had the patience of a saint. A phenomenal snuggle buddy. He didn’t cause the reaction most men did.

Oh, she warmed a bit, but nothing noticeable. The reaction seemed mild enough that she even entertained thoughts of a normal life. A
perfect life
, as Richard would say. One picket fence, two beautiful children, and a dog with a jewel-encrusted collar.

So it wasn’t exactly love. More of an unspoken, mutual agreement for obtaining the American dream. He would have every excuse to bail out on high-society obligations, and she could finally live in her own dollhouse.

But the closer to the wedding—or wedding night—they got, the more intense her reaction had grown. And the more possessive Richard had become.

His plans weren’t moving fast enough, and apparently, he didn’t want that pretty little collar to get cold, so he’d fastened it on Shauna.

And the leash? Suffocatingly short.

She pulled away and gestured to the front window where the flicker of the television light shifted from blue to white and the curtain swung from its sudden release.

“Kimmy’s here. I doubt she’d feel comfortable—”

He gestured to the house with an impatient hand. “She’s always here. She’s a damn shut-in. And the reason why you have a bedroom door. We both agreed waiting for the wedding night was a cliché. How do I know our relationship is ready for a new level, if we don’t test our compatibility?”

Shauna paused. Sound reasoning. Now to find a way around it.

“You already know I’m going to marry you,” he continued. “I agreed to that. You have your ring. What have you got to lose?”

Shauna curled her fingers under the pile of mail.

He pulled her in close and rested his forehead on hers. “Putting me off means putting off your family. Your future.” His tone flattened. “You do realize this is how real babies are made, right?”

Low blow. Shauna clenched her jaw shut.

Hyper ovulation-induced menopause, they called it. Her eggs were on the slip-n-slide to certain demise. He knew children were always a concern, especially because she couldn’t afford to store or inseminate her own eggs. Lending her the money seemed preposterous in his eyes, which to some degree, she accepted. They were to be married soon, after all.

Shauna zeroed in on the narrow points of his upper lip, hoping they wouldn’t come closer and prayed that she wouldn’t have to push him away again.

“Are you worried about your experience level?” he asked.

“No.” She looked away. “Well, maybe.” How could she pass up an excuse like that? Way better than being afraid of turning your fiancé into a French fry. The experience level, she could handle. She wasn’t a virgin. Not that he needed to know.

She’d had plenty of time to conjure up what having sex again would feel like. She might be a little out of practice, but she wasn’t immune to Google, or Youtube, or Redtube for that matter. But lately, her refined fantasy of writhing muscle and heat had nothing to do with Richard. It’s a good thing the warmth in her cheeks couldn’t spell out whose name those thoughts really belonged to.

“Because it doesn’t matter. I’ll show you. I’ll tell you what I want.” He hooked one finger in the lining of her coat.

“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” She offered what she hoped was an apologetic grimace and slid closer to the door.

Richard moved to cut her off her path. “Maybe if you’d spend some time with me, you can come to terms with what’s expected of you before the big night.”

Her vision narrowed to menacing slits. “What’s
expected
of me? Did you really just say that?” Shauna turned on her heel and marched towards the door.

“Well, obviously when it comes to sex, you don’t want any part of it, but I’m not the kind that goes without. So how else would you like me to word it?”

“I think you’ve worded it
perfectly
.” Throwing his favorite word back at him didn’t feel like enough. She reached for the door handle. Maybe she could fling it open hard enough to ram him in the nuts. Or plan B, a door-slamming penis guillotine.

Richard’s voice hardened. “I don’t mean to come off as an asshole or anything, but for God sakes, Shauna, I’m putting my foot down. A man has needs.”

“And a woman doesn’t?”

He splayed his arms out wide, and his brows lifted in innocence. “I’m right here. If you need something, let me give it to you.” Richard shot a quick glance around as if afraid the shrubs were taking notes. He lowered his voice again. “Unless it’s not me you want.”

“No. It’s not that.”
Oh, yes. Yes, it was.
Shauna jammed her key in the door and turned the knob.

Richard expelled a frustrated sigh behind her. “Look, I’m getting tired of waiting. You’re going to have to prove to me that I’m not committing to a life of celibacy. Because I’m not up for that.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to do that.”

“Well then, you know what’s expected of you. There. We’ve come full circle.” He gestured inside. “Now that we understand each other, what do ya say we go in? Kiss and make up.”

“Why don’t you stay out and kiss my ass instead.” She solidified her statement by slamming the door in his face.

“Not appropriate, Shauna,” he called from the other side. His voice muffled through the thick wood. “You’re not yourself tonight.” He paused. “I’m going to give you some time to cool off and get dressed. I’ll be back in an hour. “

“You know what? Don’t bother!”

He paused. “So…so it’s over then?” More of a challenge than a question.

Shauna opened her mouth to speak, but no words would form. Could all of this end so easily? A relationship of this length should take at least a few more sturdy shoves before it completely toppled over. Shouldn’t it?

His agitated steps quieted away.

Shauna pulled in a tight breath when she heard his car door open, then snap shut.

What had she done?

His engine started.

Her pulse hammered. What if she’d just made a terrible mistake? He had been the only man who wanted her. He stayed with her all this time. Now she’d refused him. Richard was right; she wasn’t herself. Something had gotten into her. Or someone…

She pressed her forehead to the door, but refused the strength to lift her hand to the knob. She listened to the roar of Richard’s engine until it grew soft and faded into nothing.

Shauna trudged for the closet with her head down, hating every matted-shag step. She could fix this. A little holy water and a priest would be great about now. So she could exorcise the spoiled brat who had taken over her body. No, she couldn’t have what she wanted. She couldn’t have Adrian. So get over it. Settle for the logical option and be happy with it. Reality. The safe decision.

“What you got there?”

Kimmy unloaded the mail from her arms and tore through it faster than a zombie after Einstein. “Junk. Bill. More bills.”

Funny, such a ravenous appetite for the outside world, but all she had to do was take a few steps beyond the front door. Then again, at least Kimmy had control over her world. Complete control.

“How’d your date go?” Shauna asked.

The discarded mail slapped on the table. Kimmy’s mouth turned down in a noncommittal frown. “Meh.”

Shauna shrugged out of the coat and offered it back to its rightful owner. “What do you mean? I thought this one was totally sexy.”

Her painted eyes widened. “He is. He’s a hot body builder with muscles to spare, but when it comes to the bedroom—his wrinkled pinky isn’t much of a Kimmy-pleaser.”

“Really? On your first date?”

Kimmy expelled a teenage-worthy sigh of frustration and gestured airline-attendant style to the far end of the house. “It’s hard not to take things to the next level when the bedroom is right there.”

Shauna widened her eyes in disbelief and shook her head. “Lock your door ahead of time.”

Kimmy’s knees gave. She crumpled halfway to the floor in a dramatic wave before catching herself. “I can’t. I have no willpower.”

Okay, control over everything except the spreading of her thighs.

Kimmy’s gaze lowered to the coat. “Did you steam clean this?” She seemed to weigh it with a floating motion of her hand, and then dug through the pocket. She gave Shauna a flat look and revealed palm-sized rock. She snorted. “You know, you really need a Taser if you want to keep Richard away. Throwing a stone requires space. He’s too suffocating for that.”

Shauna closed her eyes. “How did you know?”

“I know all, remember.”

Shauna looked skyward. Self-proclaimed psychic. How could she forget?

She reached their shared closet space and pulled out the sleek, black dress. The hem looked short. Too short. The neckline formed a deep V that showcased an ample amount of both breasts. She slipped the dress over her head. Her jaw hinged open. Ample. What an understatement. Danger: explosive side-boob, would be more accurate.

Kimmy’s voice muffled with the sound of crinkling plastic. “You’re missing the under-thingy.” Kimmy sauntered into the shared space with one of Adrian’s chocolates caught between her teeth. She set the hangers to clattering as she pulled out a long-sleeved, black-lace undershirt. She tossed it onto the bed and then plucked the dress from around Shauna’s neck. “Oh, sorry, and that’s mine.” She pushed a consolation chocolate into Shauna’s hand. “Richard bought you…” She turned back for the closet and the rattle of hangers ensued. ”This one.” Kimmy returned with a triumphant smile and a God-awful, neck to ankle, polyester nightmare. “Going for the nunnery-chic look, I see.”

Shauna’s shoulders dropped in their sockets. “No wonder I didn’t recognize it. Richard would never buy something that dramatic.”

“You mean sexy?” Kimmy shrugged. “So your boyfriend has a taste for funeral wear. I guess that could be kinky in some really hard-to-get-my-head-around way.” She blinked heavenward. “Maybe if it weren’t Richard, it’d be more plausible.”

Shauna’s tone deflated. “Wanna trade?”

Kimmy grinned with pent excitement. “You’d seriously wear my dress? Take a leap to the other side?”

“Not with Richard. I’m not going.” She still wanted Adrian. And tonight. If only for one night, she would wallow in that—and a slut-sexy, black dress.

And hell, maybe some vodka too.

And chocolate.

She twisted both sides of the plastic wrap until the chocolate dropped into her mouth. From the weight, she expected jawbreaker consistency, but the moment the nutty warmth rolled across her tongue, it melted. Tiny granules of sugar slid down her throat to warm her stomach.

Shauna squeezed her legs together and clenched her muscles against the yearning ache that tugged at her core. The heat of her arousal had been pulsing a steady beat since the moment Adrian had given her
that look
. History proved she wouldn’t be much use to the world until she got at least one good, hard orgasm under her belt. She looked away. “I’m going to need some serious
me
time.”

“Oh, no, no, no. If you wear it, you’re not staying here. This dress is meant to be seen. I know just the place.” Kimmy tossed the dark card that she’d unearthed from the mail pile. A coy smile curved her lips.

“Ugh—I’m not in the mood to go
anywhere
,” Shauna groaned.

“Hey, when you’re happy—and I mean
really
happy—I’m happy, so let’s make that happen, hummm?”

The card frizbee’d across the room to land on Shauna’s nose. She lifted the stiff paper until the words focused. The same card that had Richard acting all defensive.

But not just that; she’d seen it before somewhere. In her past, or…

Oh boy. On Adrian’s desk next to the chocolates. She remembered seeing a bunch of them, but they all looked so personal. Each one individually addressed. Why would she get one?

Elegant scrollwork of neon purple and green framed the handwritten card with a single message.

“O’Nightingale calls.”

Chapter Six

Shauna trudged along the sidewalks pocked with disks of petrified gum and rain puddles as she made her way to O’Nightingale’s. Her legs weighted heavily by the lateness of the hour and the emotional landfill that had become her night. Not to mention the snug fit of Kimmy’s patent leather boots. She pulled another candy from her pocket and twisted the wrapper. The metallic foil squealed in protest.

Richard was probably off somewhere, still shaking his head.

From blushing bride to bitchzilla in a matter of seconds.

Shauna grimaced and flung the thought from her head. She didn’t need guilt. She needed…more chocolate. She dug the candy from its protective foil, earning yet another squeal before crumpling the wrapper in her fist.

Richard deserved what he got tonight; the frustrations had been building up over
some time
. Sure, a little essence O’Adrian might have loosened her cynical corset, but that would have come undone eventually. Better now than after the wedding. Better to know what they were both getting into—or getting out of. Because at this hour, a mad dash for the border sounded a lot better than the altar.

She popped the globe of chocolate in her mouth and chomped down. No, not even Mexico sounded far or fast enough.

She took a cleansing breath between chews. Her lungs infused with the scent of damp cement and chocolate. This time, Shauna welcomed the warmth that splashed into her stomach and the fuzz that danced with her thoughts. If she didn’t know Adrian, she’d say these things were laced with something stronger than cocoa. Good, but it wasn’t enough. She needed an escape of mammoth proportions. Another world entirely.

Something just scary enough to reset her perspective.