KAGE (KAGE Trilogy #1) (21 page)

Kage stopped smiling. “Jamie, I grew up in motels. You’ve lived in a house all your life. Between the two of us, I think I know what the fuck I’m talking about.”

I swallowed and chose not to say anything more. Kage swaggered on up to the front desk, leaning casually against it with one elbow propped on its gleaming surface.

The female clerk was tall, brunette, and pretty. She knew her way around a makeup kit, that was for sure, and her teeth were freshly-lasered, glow-in-the-dark white.

“Can I help you boys?” she drawled, eyeing Kage like he was the main attraction at a bachelorette party. Then she cocked her head and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. “Hey, you seem familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Yeah, from your dreams, bitch.

It had really started rubbing me wrong when women looked at him that way. He was a person, for heaven’s sake, not an object. What right did they have? They didn’t even know him. Certainly not like I did. He could have been a serial killer for all they knew.

Kage noticed the scowl on my face before I did. “What’s the matter, Jamie?”

“Nothing,” I huffed, crossing my arms across my chest like a bratty child. I made sure not to look at the desk clerk.

Kage’s expression was puzzled as he turned his attention back to the woman. “No, ma’am. I don’t think we’ve met.” He gave her one of those signature Michael Kage smiles— the ones that break hearts and incinerate panties. “I’m sure I would remember if we had.”

Oh, yeah, Kage. Go the extra mile and make sure she falls in love with you. As if you have to try.

She smiled back. “It’s just— you do look awfully familiar. Are you sure you haven’t come in here before? I never forget a face. It’s one of the reasons I’m so good at my job.”

Kage shrugged, already bored with the game. “Well, my friend and I just need a room for the night, if you don’t mind. Can you hook us up?”

“Oh, right. Two full size beds? Smoking or non?” She had begun to tap keys on her computer. It was all business now, as it should have been from the start.

“What kind of suite do you have?” he asked. “Something with amenities. Maybe a mini-bar or Jacuzzi tub? What’s the nicest thing you’ve got?”

“Kage…” My protest went unacknowledged, and I scowled as the clerk consulted her computer.

“We have a junior suite available with a fully stocked bar and whirlpool tub.” She frowned. “Oh, but it’s only got one king bed, and the sofa isn’t a pull-out.”

Kage pushed his credit card across the desk. “We’ll take it.”

“Are you sure?” The woman tapped around on her keyboard some more. “I could call our sister location. It’s not far from here, and they may have some two-bedroom suites available.”

I shocked everyone, including myself, when I said, “We like to cuddle, okay lady? Now just give us the key.”

Kage raised his eyebrows at me, looking thoroughly amused. I was grateful when he didn’t make any apologies for me. Just waited for the woman to finish the transaction and hand over the key cards to our room. When the papers were signed, we were dismissed with a curt “Have a nice stay.”

Kage picked up both of our duffel bags and slung one over each shoulder. I tugged mine off of his arm and slipped it over my own shoulder. He gave me another of those amused looks, but he surrendered the bag easily enough.

“That was a bit reckless, don’t you think Mr. Publicist? Spreading rumors about you and your client cuddling might not be the best idea you’ve had.”

I glared at him. “It’s not a rumor, Kage. Maybe if you’re ashamed of it, you shouldn’t have done it.”

“How would I know if I was gonna be ashamed of it ahead of time?”

“Are you?” My voice echoed too loudly in the posh lobby, and a few people looked my way. I stretched my legs to keep up with Kage, lowered my voice. “Are you ashamed of it? There wasn’t anything wrong with it.
Was there?
I mean, it wasn’t anything… sexual.”

“If I’d thought there was anything wrong with it, I wouldn’t have done it,” he said. “But I don’t think that hotel clerk needed to know about it, either. Do you?”

“Probably not,” I conceded. “I just don’t like her.”

“And not liking her is reason to tell her our personal shit? I didn’t particularly like her, either.”

“Hard to tell with the way you were flirting.”

“You flirt way more than I do, Jamie.”

“I don’t flirt.”

“You’re shameless with it, dude. At least I pick and choose who I flirt with. You turn on that southern boy charm for everyone you meet.” He stopped at a bank of elevators and pressed the call button. “Well, everyone but me.” He gave me a pointed look, no doubt remembering every rude comment I’d ever made to him.

I sighed. “I don’t do it like you, though. I’m just being friendly. Every time you talk to a girl, you’re just oozing sex. You’re giving off the wrong impression. Your public image needs to be an untouchable bad boy, not some indiscriminate man-whore.”

His head whipped around, and he settled angry eyes on me. I saw in a flash that I’d gone too far. He was right, of course, and I was wrong. I’d lost. So why couldn’t I stop arguing the point?

Before Kage could speak, the elevator bell dinged, and what seemed like about fourteen people filed out. He caught the door, and we both stepped in, followed by a giggling couple who looked like it was taking everything they had not to pounce on each other. The sexual energy was coming off of them in waves.

Apparently, Kage felt it too. He leaned back into a corner and winked in their direction, his recent anger fallen by the wayside. I stifled a laugh. What was it about elevators, anyway? If Kage and I had not been there, that couple would probably have been half naked by the time they reached their floor.

They were the stereotypical honeymoon couple found in every romantic comedy, and they made me jealous.

It seemed like ages since I’d had someone. I thought about Layla and tried to spin a fantasy in my mind, but it was hard to fit the two of us into the shoes of the couple on the elevator. She and I had been active enough, and horny enough, but I couldn’t remember a time when I’d ever felt anything like what was emanating from this couple. Their desire was damn near palpable, the stuff love songs were made of. It was the first time I’d ever seen anything like it in real life.

The couple hurried off the elevator at the fourth floor, while Kage and I continued on to the fifth. He was quiet after they left, and I wondered if he was thinking wistful thoughts like I was. Had he ever had a relationship like theirs, or was he like me?

When the elevator stopped on our floor and the doors slid open, Kage grabbed the strap of my duffel bag where it settled against the front of my chest and pulled me roughly along behind him. I chuckled, wondering if he thought I couldn’t find my way out of the elevator without his help.

Our room was large and tastefully decorated, if a little boring. There was a floral sofa, a wall-mounted LED, a small kitchen, a balcony, and a comfy-looking king bed. After fourteen hours in a car, I was ready to fall into something soft.

I sighed and dropped my duffel right inside the door, taking in a lungful of frigid air. I had always loved the feel of an air-conditioned hotel room, like walking into a furnished meat locker. I slipped my shoes and socks off and left them by the door, enjoying the nubby feel of the carpet between my toes.

Kage grabbed the remote from a glass end table, turned on the TV, and flipped it to sports. He dropped down onto the floor, his back against the sofa, and stretched his arms languidly along the cushions behind him.

He looked right at home as he watched something about the NBA summer league. His brown skin gleamed with fresh color from our drive down, the contours of his muscles fascinating me as if I were seeing them for the first time. He had his knees bent, legs spread, with the soles of his sneakers planted on the carpet. The loose fabric of his gym shorts revealed too much at the tops of his thighs, that long, sharp groove leading up into his groin area clearly visible.

He remained intent on the television, oblivious to the fact that he was a god among men. I looked away. Went to the kitchen to check out the bar.

With the selection of alcohol I found on the counter and in the fridge, we could have easily hosted a party. There were tiny bottles of Canadian Mist, Jack Daniels, Johnny Walker Red, and several flavors of vodka. A fat bottle of red wine sat on the counter, while a wine chiller held white wines and a couple of bottles of champagne. Rounding out the offerings were six-packs of Budweiser and Guinness, along with a couple of plates of cheeses and fruits. A box of Ritz crackers sat on the counter, and I had to admit, crackers had never looked so good.

“Dude, I’m fucking starving,” I said loudly. I turned around and smacked right into Kage, who had moved up behind me without making a sound.

“So am I,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Whatever you need.” I spoke to his throat rather than looking up into his eyes. My voice wavered. “Um… Fish, grilled chicken, greens… Anything is fine.”

“We always eat my way. I want to take you out for your birthday tonight. Maybe to a club or something, but first I want to buy you whatever you want to eat. Pizza or cheeseburgers, something like that. How about a fudge cake or peach cobbler? I can handle the temptation. I’m strong.”

Yeah, he was strong alright. He was also standing too damn close to me. It was hard to breathe with someone standing so close.

“Remember what you told me the first time we met?” I asked. I don’t know what possessed me, but I reached out and flattened my palm against his abs. “You told me you don’t get a body like this by eating fast food, and you’re absolutely right. I don’t want to bring you down to my level, Kage. I want you to bring me up.”

He shifted. I felt the ripple of muscle through the fabric of his shirt, the heat of his skin, and I knew I’d made a terrible mistake. Something was happening in my shorts. That old familiar tingle and tighten, the purely physical reaction to skin on skin contact, made infinitely worse by the fact that I’d been celibate for way too long. I was getting hard.

If I didn’t get a woman soon, I was going to have to keep a respectable distance from Michael Kage. Definitely no more sparring, because if he ever noticed what was happening to me every time he touched me, he might think—

Oh, God.

The touch was too personal. It wasn’t just a friendly touch. There was a wave of desire rolling up behind it, and I think he felt it, too. How could he not?

I moved my hand, meaning only to let go of him, but my fingers skated delicately over his belly in the process. He shuddered and grabbed my wrist, yanking down and back, using a mini arm drag to pull me flush against him.

“What are you doing?” he grated, his voice low and dangerous.

“I— I don’t—” Stuttering was not helping my case. I finally looked up into his eyes, impossibly green and glittering with some emotion I couldn’t read. Whatever that emotion was, it terrified me.

He secured my hand behind him and used his hips to back me hard against the fridge. The glass liquor bottles jangled inside the door, and the cracker box fell over onto the counter with a thud.

Kage was either about to kiss me or beat the utter fuck out of me, and I was pretty sure I wanted the first but deserved the second. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for a reaction that never came. Instead, I heard the spinning roll of a glass bottle making its way across the counter, just before it crashed to the floor.

My eyes flew open. Red wine gushed up our legs, splashing onto Kage’s white shirt and staining it. Sticky liquid puddled around my bare feet, and something stung the sensitive skin on the top of my left foot. I sucked in a breath.

“Fuck!” Kage yelled instinctively, glancing down at the carnage. “Your feet. Don’t move, there’s glass everywhere.”

He squatted and wrapped an arm around my thighs, hoisted me up and cinched my legs against his ribs. I grabbed onto his broad shoulders, feeling the power there. He looked down and surveyed the floor, stepping gingerly back before tiptoeing across the kitchen floor like he was negotiating a minefield. He wiped his sneakers on the very edge of the carpet before making his way all the way across the room and lowering me to the bed.

“Don’t move,” he told me again. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched him disappear into the bathroom, still in shock from the bottle disaster, and even more from what had happened before.

Kage returned with a warm wet cloth and a folded tissue and dropped to one knee on the floor in front of me. He pulled my left foot onto his knee, and that’s when I noticed the shard of glass slicking out of the top of my foot.

“Damn,” I said. “I didn’t even know that was there.”

He snatched the glass out of my foot and set it on the bedside table, then used the cloth to soothe the spot. After a moment, he cleaned the wine from the rest of my foot and moved on to the other one. A tiny rivulet of blood trickled from the hole the glass had left in my foot, and he staunched it by pressing the square of tissue against it.

“Don’t worry, it’s not deep,” he said. “It may sting a little, but it shouldn’t bleed much.”

“You don’t have to do this,” I told him, embarrassed. “I’m not a little kid.”