Forster, Suzanne (16 page)

Gus didn't know anything about rules. She only knew that desire was flaring up inside her at the mere sight of him. The moment he'd turned, the moment she'd seen the stab of need in his eyes she'd been reduced to a single violent heartbeat. Now her heart was storming in her ears, drowning out every other concern. She'd sensed something hidden and hurt in him from the first, but her intuition had told her not to trust it. She had to now. Even if the diamond-hard glint she saw was what made him dangerous, she still couldn't deny its impact. That was the part of him that spoke to her... needed her.

Her sigh was anguished.
What was happening to her?

The weakness struck first at the back of her knees. It felt as if all the cartilage in her legs, all the glue that held her together, was dissolving. The feeling that fluttered up and down her body was sweet, utter helplessness. It was one of the most riveting things she'd ever experienced, and she hated it. Vulnerability was her enemy. She had fought against it her whole life, and if this was what she had to look forward to—this swooning, sickening weakness—she would pass, thank you.

He must have seen it too, the craziness that had taken possession of her, because as he approached her, he reached out and caressed her cheek. She tried to turn, but there was nowhere to go, and he wouldn't have let her anyway. His hand closed on her face, and he held her there, gazing at her, at the strange, wild energy that must be lighting her eyes.

"Have you lost your mind?" he said.

She nodded. "It's gone, without a trace."

"Yeah... me too."

He swallowed tightly, and Gus felt as if her stomach had left her body and was tumbling headlong into the pit beneath the floor of the shack. She had run out of theories. She was trapped in a mine shack with the man who'd kidnapped her—a hard, hungry, naked man who so clearly— so thrillingly—wanted her. And weak-kneed or not, she wanted him, too. She could ponder that until the desert turned into a swamp, but she couldn't change it. It was the only reality she had.

"Go ahead, " she said softy, struggling a little with the rest of it. "T-take me."

"Take you?" He sounded surprised, if not bemused.

"Well, of course." She didn't know quite what else needed to be said. It was so obvious what was happening between them. They were both aroused. His body was testimony to that. "You
know
you want to, " she added, her voice going warm and throaty.

His brow knit quizzically. "How's that?"

"Well, you—you're excited. " She lifted her shoulders. "You're giving me one of those hot, narrow-eyed stares, and you're breathing through your nostrils, so you m-must want to. "

"Take you?"

"Yes, you do. You
want
to."

"Like I wanted to spank you?"

"Well, yes... like... that." Damn, why couldn't she talk? And why was he beginning to annoy her when a moment ago she'd been ready to throw herself in front of a thundering herd for him?

"Apparently you know a lot about what I want. I wonder how much. "

He brushed his thumb over her lips with a lightness that made her want to do something embarrassing, like sigh or squirm. And suddenly it felt as if they'd slipped back in time, as if they were playing out a bedroom scene from an old Hollywood movie. His brows were still knit in puzzlement, and he was frowning at her like she was some haywire dame out of a forties musical that he didn't know quite what to do with. What was more, he was perfect for the part! He just looked so goddamn tough with those bullet holes all over his body. He reminded her of all the old movie tough guys rolled into one, men who were as deadly as the weapons they carried and yet incapable of handling one seemingly harmless female. It was corny. It was adorable! She wanted to melt.

"Geez, you're cute," she said impulsively, laughter bubbling in her throat. Her fingers feathered the dark thicket of his two-day beard, reveling in its roughness. "I can hardly stand it you're so cute. "

"Cute?" It was all he could do to manage the word.

There wasn't any time for an explanation on Gus's part. She'd meant it as a compliment, but he didn't seem to take it that way. He backed her to the wall and held her fast, his hands sliding into her hair, his elbows splayed against the wood slats for leverage. With a searching purpose, he lifted her dark tresses high off her neck and probed the depths of her eyes as if he were looking for something he'd lost. "Cute?" he breathed.

"I didn't mean—" She accidentally brushed her leg against his and he released a harsh breath, lifting her up the wall.

"Let's see what you know about me, " he whispered.

The diamonds in his eyes had gone dark with desire, and the latent sexual power that flared through his hardened body truly put the fear of God in Gus. He'd turned her heart into a triphammer, and if she'd thought her legs were weak before, she'd been wrong.
This
was weak. Her bones were melting like a gelatin dessert at room temperature.

"But I—" She was still trying to explain when his lips touched her and put an end to whatever silly thing she'd been planning to say. His hips came up against hers with hot, thrilling force. She could feel the hardness she'd been fantasizing about. She could feel it
where
she'd been fantasizing about it, and it spoke to her in ways that words never could have.

He kissed her swiftly, his hands in her hair, his tongue stealing into her mouth, raping it sweetly. He kissed her roughly and passionately, just as she had predicted. And he was going to make love to her that way too, like a car bearing down on a blazing stretch of desert road, thrusting itself into higher and higher gears, speeding faster and faster until it spontaneously combusted in flames. She could believe that his mother had named him Satan. He was going to take her straight to hell.

She broke the kiss, a breathless gasp on her lips, a sudden realization in her heart. "What's your name?"

"What?"

"I don't even know your name! I've never seen you before yesterday. "

"So what?"

"So I'm about to have sex with a man I don't
know."

"Has that ever stopped you before?"

"Of course! What are you saying, that I'm promiscuous?"

"What are
you
saying?" He laughed at her. "That we haven't been properly introduced. This isn't a date, Gus. I kidnapped you. They don't cover that in the etiquette books. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, and even if it weren't, there isn't any law out here but me. I'm the sole proprietor of this desert oasis, this palatial shack,
and
Gus Featherstone. I hold uncontested title. I'm the man, you dig?—and until somebody takes you away from me, you're mine, scraped knees, incredible breasts and all. "

"Just what I always dreamed of, being kidnapped by a rap singer." She'd wanted to be contemptuous, but that was the best she could manage.

"You don't want to hear me sing, trust me." He reached down and scooped up the bar of soap she dropped. "In the meantime, no hostage situation is complete without a little torture, and I think I can speak for everyone here, including the lizards, when I say that I do want this to be a complete experience for you."

Soap suds sluiced into her cleavage as he drew the bar across the shivering swells of her breasts. "Prepare to be tortured," he informed her softly.

"I won't cooperate with this, " she said. "You'll have to use force. "

"In that case—" He took her by the shoulders and turned her around before she could protest. "Prepare to be forced."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm going to scrub your back whether you like it or not. It's your turn. " He began to soap her lightly, his huge hands nearly engulfing her shoulder blades.

Gus held on to the plumbing pipe and shivered involuntarily as he worked his way down her back, purling the delicate linkage of her spine. Silly man. He was undoubtedly acting out some adolescent male fantasy, and well, all right, she'd have to play along with it for a while. Let him amuse himself, let him imagine some helpless, nubile love slave to his heart's content. She was totally in control of the situation. She even knew what was coming next...

A breath bubbled in her throat and she closed her eyes for a moment. He was going to touch her the way she'd touched him, and the anticipation building inside her was surprisingly strong. Secretly, it was rather delicious. She could feel that same glittery sparkle of fear and exhilaration. It was like the diamonds dancing in the shower spray, like the diamonds burning in his eyes. The facets were so bright, so sharp, they hurt.

"I'll let you know when I've had enough," she said.

"Ummm... you do that."

The pipes were rattling and the shower stream had fallen off to a drizzle, which meant the holding tank must be nearly empty, but Gus was oblivious for the most part. She had his hands to think about. His palms sluiced into the small of her back, flowing like warm water, and then his fingers spilled onto the soft curves of her bottom. He cupped her, squeezing gently and the pressure sent out streaming ripples of surprise and shocked delight. "Whoopsie, " she murmured.

"What did you say?" His voice was irresistibly husky. "Had enough?"

"Well—" Excitement deepened the natural arch of her spine.

His lips found her nape, hot and steamy. He was murmuring how good she felt, how perfect in his hands. His light, illicit touchings stirred her into a sweet frenzy, and her flesh grew uncomfortably heated. The way he'd taken control made her feel taut and urgent, as if this were her first sexual experience, and she were being tenderly initiated in the pleasures of the forbidden. A questing fingertip played about the cleft of her buttocks, tickling and feathering, tantalizing her for a flurry of seconds before it dipped into the sensitive space.

"I think—"

"Enough?" he asked.

"Yes... ahh, almost."

Gus sucked in a breath, swaying on her tiptoes as he rode the crest of that tight, lush place. It was torture, all right. His caresses were almost unbearably stimulating. They had her twitching and tingling with pleasure. She honestly didn't know how much more backscrubbing she could take, but she wasn't quite ready to cry the E word yet.

Tension bowed the curve of her spine. Tilting madly, she leaned into him, her shoulders nestling into the hollows of his, her neck deeply arched. It was all so exquisitely precarious, she wanted to moan. Her feelings were soaring to an intensity that should have warned her to resist them, but she couldn't, even when he slipped a hand between her braced legs and fingered the dark, damp curls of her pubis, even when he found her tiny, engorged center and began to trace languid circles around it. Waves of pleasure throbbed and pulsated. A flick of his thumb made her convulse.

"Enough?"

"Enough!"

She let out a throaty moan and tried to pull away from him, but the bar of soap had fallen to the floor, and the wood was slick with sudsy water. Her feet began to slide, and the next thing she knew she was careening forward, heading for the decks.

"Oh, my God!" she cried as she caught herself with her hands. It was a perfect four-point landing, her hands and feet on the floor, her fanny in the air. Her palms stung from the impact, but she was too stunned to think about awkwardness or vulnerability or any of that until he brushed up against her.

The sound he made held as much anguish as desire.

They both heard it and froze.

Gus wondered why she wasn't moving, why she
couldn't
move.

Jack wondered if the gods were laughing at him or with him. He'd tried to catch her, but the soapy surface was like skating on ice. It had all happened too fast. Now she was kissing the shower floor, and his erection was pressed up against her buttocks. Or vice versa. It didn't really matter which, because unless she stopped him, the animal in him was aroused beyond any possibility of backing off.

He could see the pale petals, the deep, alluring pinks and magentas of her female garden. He could see everything he'd been touching, and how thoroughly he'd aroused her. She was moist and flushed, her lips plump with desire. His mouth watered as he thought about kissing her there. His cock shuddered savagely.

He began to caress her with his hands.

Gus let out a long, tight, earth-shaking sigh. He was rocking against her, and her body craved the physical motion, craved the deep pleasure he could give her. He felt huge in comparison to her, much too large for
any
of her natural orifices, including the one he was caressing. But instead of frightening her, his size aroused something wild in her.

She moved against him and felt him grasp her hips. A moment later she cried out with pleasure as he thrust into her tight, clutching body, gently forcing his way in, yet fiercely taking possession. He would not be denied, and within seconds his powerful thrusting became her only anchor. While her hands sought purchase in the warm sudsy water, his deep penetration held her hostage to pleasure that was as sharp as anything she'd ever known.

A cry slipped out of her, setting off a chain reaction that reverberated madly between them. He began to rock her powerfully and tenderly, the passion in his body radiating into hers and sending Shockwaves all through her. As each sweet jolt freed something wild within her, it seemed to release an even deeper hunger in him. Bending over her, he cupped her swaying breasts in the heat of his palms and nuzzled her nape like a male animal. She'd asked to be taken, and he was doing it, taking her with all the wild, primal joy of a spring mating.

She felt him so deeply she could almost taste him in her throat. She couldn't possibly take any more of him, and the pressure was glorious! It built the tension in her body to an aching pitch. The tiny, throbbing inferno between her legs was hot enough to bring tears to her eyes.

It was more ecstasy than Gus could stand. She would have dropped to the floor if he hadn't been holding her. And when the first blinding tremors shook through her, when the first real, soul-deep orgasm took hold, her arms gave out, and she sagged forward helplessly.