Dance of the Crystal (16 page)

If she’d left the bar with one of those yahoos—

Don’t make it any worse than it is, dammit.

After a complete circuit of the tables and booths, he had to accept that she’d left Thor’s Hammer. He hoped she’d at least gotten into her car safely. And alone.

Damn, that’s why he steered clear of women. How could he have forgotten how his mother had played his father for a fool?

Kitchen. Maybe Mags hid her in the kitchen so she wouldn’t have to fend off a guy on the make who wouldn’t take no for an answer. He was headed in that direction when Trang caught his attention.

“Phone,” she mouthed, holding up the receiver.

Crystal.

You idiot, why would she call?If she wanted him, why wouldn’t she just wait for him? Or maybe some broad kicked Rolf out and he needed help getting home. Then he snorted. Rolf kicked out of a woman’s bed?
Get real
.

With a sigh, he wended his way to the still-noisy bar. Trang gave him an “I don’t know who it is” shrug.

He took the phone from her outstretched hand. “Thorvald.”

“Hi, there. I’m waiting for you.”

His cock jumped to attention at the breathy sound of Crystal’s voice. He turned to the wall, cupped a hand to his free ear to drown out the cacophony behind him. “Where?”

A giggle made him wonder how much she’d had to drink. “Upstairs.”

“What?” He squelched the instinctive need to turn his head upward, as if he could see through the beams and the ceiling. “How did—never mind. Don’t move.”

He slammed the receiver back into the cradle. “Where’s Magnus?”

“Right behind you. I just locked up the pool room.”

“She give you the keys?”

Without needing an explanation to Soren’s verbal shorthand, Magnus nodded and reached into his jeans pocket for the ring of master keys Crystal had passed on to him.

“No, hang on to them. You lock up tonight, buddy. I’ve got to get out of here.”

Magnus watched as his preoccupied brother hustled through the swinging kitchen doors and out of sight of the bar. He wondered if anyone else had noticed the bite marks on Soren’s index finger.

A smile broke over his face. Kat was right. Soren was going down for the count.

* * * * *

Soren’s reaction had quickened her heartbeat when she called the bar from her cell phone.
Don’t move
, he’d said. Heck, she couldn’t stand still. Kat had been explicit that she not wait in the office at the top of the stairs, but to go all the way into his apartment. She’d even given her the five-digit combination for the push-button lock. Magnus was supposed to be the only other person who knew the combination, but Kat apparently had her ways of wheedling a secret or two out of him.

As Crystal discovered, the upstairs office suite included an employee lounge of sorts—a small room with a sofa and chair and a private half bath, so any of the staff coming up for a break would find her if she waited there. The point, Kat had impressed on her, had been to keep her visit private from the staff so Mister Cool and Unemotional—she giggled at Kat’s nickname for Soren—didn’t get teased about finally falling off his high horse. And no one would know if she spent the night up here, since they’d come in Deirdra’s car.

Wide-eyed, she let her glance roam around his space. An eave ran the length of the second floor, with a two-windows-wide dormer lifting the ceiling over a large kitchen and another enlarging an almost empty living room. The huge space contained nothing but an arcing floor lamp shining on an oversize sofa in navy blue corduroy, and a small TV perched on a table topped by a spectacular slab of highly polished oak.

At the far, shadowed end stood another closed door, but Crystal dared not peek inside. That could only have been his bedroom, and she didn’t want to be
too
forward. She had firmly nixed Kat’s idea that Soren find her naked and warm between his sheets.

Although she fervently hoped that’s where she’d end up. She shivered in anticipation just thinking about how he felt as he’d entered her from behind, as frantic to get to her as she was to receive him. And the way he’d kissed her on the dance floor, staking his claim in front of his brother and everyone else, thrilled her down to her plum-painted toenails. The crystal had been right. Soren was The One. If he hadn’t figured it out yet, he would tonight.

She sat on the sofa, testing it. With plump seat and back cushions, it was deep enough for two to snuggle or spoon while watching the tube, the fabric an intriguing combination of smooth and rough under her palm, long enough to accommodate his six-foot-plus height.

The door at the bottom of the stairs creaked open, slammed shut. A bolt slid home with a metallic
clank

. The determined thud of large feet on the carpeted floor of the office—

He’s here. How should she act? Demure? Kittenish? Sultry?

Nervous. Hearing the clicks of the push-button lock on the living room door, she suddenly had second thoughts. Would he think she was too brazen? Would he kick her out?

“Crystal.” The word came out as rough as the unfinished edges of the slab of oak in front of her. In two long strides he came to her as she half turned on the sofa. He grabbed her by the upper arms and, pulling her to her feet, swept her into a crushing embrace. Her breasts were flattened against his chest as one arm held her tight at her back. The other cupped her butt, pressing the heat of his bulge into her belly. All she could do was worm her arms around his waist and bury her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

“When you disappeared, I thought you were just stringing me along, wanting me to think you went home with one of those yahoos who were pawing you.” He loosened his hold a fraction, as if just realizing he was squeezing her like an anaconda, and dipped his head to kiss her temple. “God, I want to fuck you all the time.” Stepping back, he released her and plowed his fingers through already-mussed blond hair, as if it wasn’t the first time in the past few minutes that he’d made the nervous gesture.

“Hell, that was crude. I don’t know how to say pretty things.”

She allowed all her desire and love to show in her eyes as she lifted her gaze to him. “I want you too, Soren.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “And this time, we have all night.”

Pushing him lightly away, she added, “So make sure you locked all the doors.”

“Locks. Oh, yeah.” Turning to the door between office and apartment, he pushed buttons at random to disengage the combination. Then turned back to her.

And just looked.

His gaze devoured her, so intense it sent tingles to her mouth, to her breasts, to the warm, wet spot between her legs, and all the way down to her toes that curled inside her wedge-heeled slides.

She opened her arms to him in invitation. He stepped forward, knelt before her. Placed his large hands on her hips, tenderly touched his lips to the navel above the low-rise waistband of her jeans then placed equally tender kisses all around the exposed skin of her waist and hips that he could reach.

Crystal bent down, tucked her hands around his neck, rested her cheek on the crown of his head. “You smell like cigarette smoke.”

Immediately he let go of her and stood up, barely missing her chin with his thick skull as she ducked out of his way. “I can’t help it. Comes with the territory.”

“It’s not a criticism. I was trying to…” She let her gaze bounce around, suddenly unsure whether to continue.

Do it!

She cleared her throat. “I was trying to make a suggestion. If you’ll let me, I can wash your hair…in the shower…”

“Oh.” His Adam’s apple bobbed visibly. “Yeah. Great idea. Yeah. The shower.”

He grabbed her hand and started tugging her through the vast, shadowed living room to the door in the far wall that she’d noticed earlier. Then stopped, searched her face with sober eyes. “Are you sure?”

She fingered the crystal dangling between her breasts. It was warm and, she could swear, vibrated with a low hum. “Very sure.”

“Crystal.” He cradled her face with his large hands. “I’m sorry about what happened in the storeroom. I acted like a madman. You deserve to be treated like—”

“Don’t you dare apologize. It was wonderful.” Her eyes sparkled as they drank in the emotions she saw in his—desire, self-loathing, insecurity. “I’ve read about, um, quickies in public places. The excitement.

The daring. Like thumbing your nose at society. God knows, I’ve wanted to give the world the finger for years, but it was drummed into me that a socialite doesn’t stoop to emulating the hoi polloi. I feel like I’m coming out of exile.”

He was rough around the edges, but he was so innately protective of her, she was charmed. She turned pointedly to the closed door. “Now, where were we?”

“Right. Shower.” He took her hand in his and, swinging the door open, led her through. An automatic switch lit a bedside table lamp with a soft glow. “Sometimes I’m pretty bushed when I finish up at three a.m.,” he explained. “After I smacked into the bathroom door the second time in the dark, I installed it as a safety measure.”

Sublimely conscious of his hand still holding hers, Crystal wondered if he thought she truly cared why the light went on, or if his babbling was an unconscious mechanism to distance himself in case she hurt him in some fashion.

As if she could.

He let go of her hand to touch a wall switch and the bathroom came to life under a row of lights over the sink counter. Tucked inside another double-windowed dormer, the room was as spacious as his kitchen.

But it was the shower that caught Crystal’s eye, a decadent, walk-in space big enough for two, tiled in random shades of blue, with a ledge seat on one side.

“Soren?” Her voice was soft and, she hoped, seductive.

When he turned, Soren looked like a little boy uncertain whether to expect a reward or a reprimand.

She forced herself not to look down at it, but in her peripheral vision she could see the massive bulge pushing against the zipper of his jeans.

“Where’s your shampoo?”

That seemed to break the spell. He took the one step that separated them, cupped her jaw tenderly with his large hands, and looked deeply into her eyes. “You’re sure?”

“Soren Thorvald,” she said, finally exasperated enough to act, “I appreciate your chivalry, but I’m not made of glass.” She grabbed two handfuls of his blue polo shirt and tugged the material out of his jeans.

“Will you get in the shower so we can get rid of the smell of smoke?”

Let him think the smoky smell bothered her, if that’s what it took to get him naked. She smiled as he suddenly caught up with the idea of
naked
and
we
and ripped off his clothing, kicking everything to one side. He turned on the shower flow full-force and stepped into the stream, letting the water cascade from his head down.

Crystal disrobed more slowly, licking her lower lip unconsciously as she followed the trail of water clinging, sliding down that magnificent, well-honed body. He stood motionless under the stream, his penis rampant in anticipation, eyes burning into her as she took the half-dozen steps to join him within the tiled enclosure.

“Can you hand me the soap?” she asked, her voice thready with desire.

Without taking his eyes off her, Soren reached to the tiled pocket and found the soap by touch.

Wordlessly he handed it to her.

“You’re going to have to pay attention to what I say.”

“I’m listening,” he rasped.

“I don’t want you to do anything except
feel
.” She began soaping her hands, the fresh pine scent mingling with the smell of smoke and man. “You don’t think, you don’t rationalize, you don’t argue. You just let things
happen
. Do you understand?”

His assent was a cross between a grunt and a groan. He raised one hand to stabilize himself against the side of the shower, obviously—she hoped—anticipating a knee-weakening experience.

Crystal didn’t keep him waiting. Handing the bar of soap back to Soren, she began to soap him around his waist. His eyes widened but he kept silent. He probably thought she would start with his hair and work her way down.

She had other plans.

Making smooth, sudsy circles, she washed around his hipbones, his navel, then narrowed her focus to the line of hair leading down to the thick, dark blond nest of wiry curls between his thighs.

Intent on her mission, Crystal smiled to herself when he involuntarily thrust his hips forward.
Yes
, she thought.
Coming right up
. When she had thoroughly washed his pubic curls, she said, “Soap,” and reached her hand up. A little more teasing wasn’t amiss in this situation, was it?

The soap plopped in her hand, and he cupped her fingers around it to be sure she didn’t drop it.

Crystal made a big production out of making more suds, then handed the soap back to him without looking up. She bent down, ready for the
pièce de résistance
. This close, his cock was magnificent. The head was a fierce, dark red. Purple veins stood out sharply against the paler red of a long, thick shaft.

She took a deep breath and swirled one hand around its girth then moved it back and forth gently.

“Crystal—” His voice was strained. He clamped both hands around her head.

“No,” she said mildly. “I asked you to just
feel
. Remember? Please don’t interrupt my concentration.”

Soren took a deep, shuddering breath, but let go of her and locked his knees.

Now she slid both hands, rhythmically, one after the other, from the base of his cock all the way to the tip, squeezing gently as she encountered the mushroom-shaped head. She could feel it throbbing, pulsing.

The knowledge that
she
could make him react like this was an aphrodisiac.

One hand still stroking his cock, she let the other wander down to his balls, which had contracted hard and tight up against the base of his cock. She lathered and stroked both cock and balls, until he called out her name hoarsely.

“Turn.” She grabbed his hips and set word to action. Water splashed against his groin, the foamy water sliding down his muscular legs as Crystal moved his genitals this way and that to take advantage of the warm spray.