Kiss Me Twice (2 page)

She looked a little surprised at the compliment, as though fully prepared for a barb. It was true though. She looked fantastic, as always.

Sure, she looked a little older than when he'd last seen her at her mother's funeral. A few tiny smile lines decorated the corners of her eyes. But the blond hair suited her as well as her own natural chestnut brown shade had, giving her a sassy, party girl look. Her body was no longer girlishly slim, but tightly toned in the manner of a woman who worked very hard at maintaining her appearance.

"Thanks, you do too," she said, deliberately sliding her gaze down his chest, lingering for a moment in his lap before sliding back up again.

Mike's hand tightened around the stem of his glass. Some things, however, hadn't changed. Karen was still the seductive little bitch who used her considerable assets to turn men into slobbering idiots who would do whatever she wanted. He held it as a point of pride that he had never completely fallen under her spell, though he'd come frighteningly close.

Then again, when they had gone out, Karen had only been eighteen. Still an amateur. Now she was clearly a pro.

He pitied the poor schmuck who was dangling on her line. "What are you doing here, Karen?"

"I could ask you the same. This doesn't seem like your kind of place, Mike."

"You're right. I'm here with my brothers and some friends. Nick's bachelor party."

Her brow knit into a frown. "Oh yes, the wedding."

"What, not happy for your baby sister?" he mocked. Karen's longstanding resentment of her sister was well known by anyone who had gone to high school with the Sullivan girls.

"Sure I am. She's marrying a great guy."

Though her voice lacked enthusiasm, Mike was surprised that she wasn't insincere. "Yep, he's the best."

"Kelly did always get everything," Karen said, sounding like a sullen thirteen-year-old. That was more like it.

"What about you?" he asked.

She shifted uncomfortably on her stool. "A little fight with my boyfriend. I decided I'd be better off on my own tonight."

"So now you're going to fuck some poor unsuspecting schmuck to get revenge on him?" He'd meant the comment to be casually mocking, but eleven years' worth of resentment underscored his words.

If it were anyone else, Mike would have thought it was vulnerability that flashed in Karen's eyes. Instead he chalked it up to a flicker of the candle next to them being jostled by the bartender.

Her glossy, cupid's bow mouth curved in a feline smile as her hand dropped to trail seductively up his thigh. "Why, Mike, what a good idea. Lucky for me you came along."

Chapter Two

Oh crap, I am in for it now
. But even as Karen cursed her big, fat mouth, she felt a flash of triumph at the raw lust that ignited in Mike's hazel eyes.

Of all the cheesy bars in Reno, she thought, paraphrasing Casablanca, why the hell did Mike Donovan have to walk into Cleo's?

One look at his face, and all the pain¸ all the resentment at the way he'd turned his back on her came rushing back, along with all the gut-wrenching regret that she'd ever lost him.

Worse, even through her own anger and his obvious contempt, her body still erupted with lust at the mere sight of him. Everything about him drove her crazy. His big, long-fingered workman's hands. She could still remember the way they felt on her skin, sliding inside her. His wide, full-lipped mouth. Oh God, she knew how good he was with that mouth.

Just as she knew that beneath his white cotton button-front shirt and khaki trousers she'd find a wealth of tanned skin and rippling muscles. Her fingers tingled at the remembered feel of skimming them up and down the sleekness of his back, sometimes digging her fingernails into the flesh as he brought her to orgasm after orgasm.

And his eyes, she thought as she dragged her gaze back up to his face. Thickly lashed, gleaming hazel, framed by heavy dark brows. Eyes that used to smile down on her as he called her "Tiny" with such sweetness, she'd almost had herself convinced he really loved her.

What a dumb bitch she'd been.

Now his eyes were cold, greenish gold slits that looked at her with mingled lust and derision.

Which was why she should get up and leave, right now.

The sane, well-adjusted voice she'd worked so hard to cultivate over the last two years screamed at her to get out of there RIGHT NOW, but her body was clearly not listening. Her right hand slid farther up Mike's thigh. A smile curved her lips as she felt the muscles tighten.

Through her own sexual awareness came the rush, the familiar surge of power she always got when she knew a man was helpless to resist her.

That this man was helpless to resist her.

Mike inched his body marginally closer to hers and took another sip of his wine. "What do you think you're doing, Karen?" His voice was calm, but she could see the tiny beads of perspiration form along his hairline. A good sign, considering the bar was very well air-conditioned.

She leaned closer, keeping her right hand on his thigh and shifting so her own knees were between his spread ones. "I'm just following your advice, Mike. Brad has to learn he needs to treat me right or I'm going to go find someone else to play with."

Part of her, the sane, rational part, felt like she was watching herself from across the room.
I can't believe you! What the hell are you thinking?
sane Karen demanded.
The fact that Brad turned out to be such a colossal dick is not a free pass to do something stupid. You've been so good! No messing around for almost two years. You've worked so hard not to fall into your old bad habits, and the first glimpse of your high school boyfriend and you completely regress!

Karen moved one foot forward and rested it on the rung of Mike's stool, bringing her bare thigh into brushing contact with the soft cotton of his slacks.

He wasn't just my high school boyfriend
, Karen responded bitterly to her sane self.
He was my first love. My only love. A girl can't be held responsible under these circumstances.

In that case, I'm out of here.
And with that, her inner voice of sanity departed for the night.

Mike, oblivious to her heated internal dialogue, said, "I wasn't volunteering to be your playmate."

And yet he didn't move away.

"But Mike," she said in her best Marilyn Monroe whisper, "you're the only one I want to play with." Though rusty, her little girl voice paired with the sidelong glance through her eyelashes had always been one of her best moves.

Strong fingers wrapped around her biceps and he practically lifted her off her stool as he pulled her face to his. "Don't fuck around with me, Karen," he said through clenched teeth. "I dealt with enough of your bullshit to last me a lifetime, so don't think you can play me like you used to."

Karen opened her mouth to protest, but her breath froze as she saw the lust in his eyes. He still wanted her. He might hate her, but he still wanted her. She had accomplished that. And sick puppy that she was, the knowledge fueled her rapidly mounting desire.

"Just be straight with me, Karen. Do you want to fuck me or not?"

How very Mike, to lay it out in such basic, no-nonsense terms.

And God help her, she did. Wanted to feel him on her, in her, taste his smooth dark skin with her lips and tongue just one more time.

Almost as much as she wanted to prove to Mike that she could still make him feel things no other woman could make him feel. That was her skill, her gift, her weapon. This was her chance to use it on him again.

Before she could whisper "Yes," his mouth came down hard on hers with such punishing force it could barely be called a kiss. Even if she'd wanted to, there was no way she could have pulled away with his hand tangled tightly in her hair.

Lust and heat poured through her veins. It had been so long, but the still familiar taste and feel of Mike brought her to swift and almost painful arousal. A creamy throbbing erupted between her thighs as she opened her lips, sucking his tongue eagerly into her mouth. Fisting her hand in his thick black hair, she nearly fell off her stool in her eagerness to get close.

The near fall brought her partially back to her senses. She needed to regain control of this situation, and fast. This was her seduction, her chance to teach Mike the lesson that no matter what he thought about her, she still had the power to make him crazed with lust.

But damn, it was hard to concentrate when he eased the pressure on her mouth and teased her with the slick, hot slide of his tongue against hers.

She uttered a low moan against his mouth and slid her hand up his thigh, not stopping until she felt the heaviness of his balls against her palm. She gave them a gentle squeeze, then moved her hand up and to the right, and pressed her palm against a skyscraper of an erection. Mike groaned into her mouth and grabbed her hand, pressing it even more firmly against his cock.

This was what I wanted,
she thought as she sucked and bit at his mouth. Mike helpless, incapacitated with need and completely under her control.

Her self-congratulations were cut off as Mike countered her move by lifting her off her bar stool and setting her astride one of his thighs. Her wet, aching mound was pressed against him, and through the wispy silk of her damp panties his firm muscles flexed against her swollen clit. Splaying one big hand across her back, he lifted his thigh against her as she ground against him like a stripper giving the lap dance of her career.

A tight knot built low in her belly, a sensation so long forgotten she almost didn't recognize it. But holy shit, she was about to come right there, with nothing but his leg between hers and his tongue in her mouth. In retaliation she squeezed his erection and found the tip of his dick through the fabric of his pants, circling and squeezing it until he shuddered and clamped his hand around her wrist.

Her moment of triumph was short lived as Mike gripped the stretchy neckline of her top and shoved it down, and his mouth came down to latch firmly on her nipple, hard and pointy beneath the lacy cup of her bra.

Her back arched to give him better access, her hands gripping his head to press his mouth even more firmly to her breast. She shuddered at the hot slide of his hand up her thigh, at his thumb sliding against the leg opening of her panties. Just a few more inches, she thought desperately, maybe just a few centimeters...

"Hey!" Someone was yelling very near them. "HEY!" The voice grew more insistent.

Suddenly they were doused with icy cold liquid.

"What the fuck!" Mike roared, and both he and Karen looked into the angry face of the bartender.

"We don't have live sex shows in this club," he said, still waving the water hose threateningly. "Take it up to your room."

Karen looked around, dazed, and vaguely felt Mike pull her blouse back up over her shoulder. Indeed, they were still seated at the bar at Cleo's. Instead of looking at the band or each other, most of the patrons were staring right at them. Most looked completely scandalized, but a few obviously hoped for an invitation to join in.

She slid off her bar stool and wished fervently that she could melt into a puddle on the floor. She fumbled with her bag, but her hands shook so hard she couldn't even grip her wallet.

Oh God, she had nearly had sex with him right there in the bar. She hadn't done anything that outrageous in...had she ever done anything that outrageous? A quickie in a bathroom or closet was one thing, but having a guy nearly finger her at a bar...

Mike clamped his hand firmly around her wrist, threw several bills on the bar, and pulled her out of the club. Karen focused on keeping her balance in her four-inch stilettos as he propelled her across the lobby. The next thing she knew he was pushing her into an elevator.

"What room?" he asked.

Karen blinked at him.

"What room?" he said, harsher now.

"Uh, 1165," she said, and watched him punch the floor number in so hard she marveled that he didn't crack the panel.

Then he was on her again, shoving her up against one of the mirrored sides of the elevator. He lifted her up by the waist, pinning her against the wall until her head was a few inches above his, using his hips to anchor her above the floor. He didn't even pause, just went straight for her breasts, tugging at her blouse and bra until both were bare.

"Jesus Christ, how is it possible that you're still this hot?" He sucked a nipple in his mouth and captured the other in his fingers, pinching and rolling the hot, aching bud until she wanted to scream.

Karen opened her eyes, and their reflection in the opposite mirror was enough to nearly send her over the edge. His dark head pressed against her gold-hued flesh, and his long-fingered hand all but swallowed up her other breast. Her own expression was dazed, eyes half-closed, mouth slack with lust.

She arched her pelvis against him until her mons came into contact with his rock-hard abs. Her moan was unnaturally loud in the close chamber as his mouth licked, sucked, and nipped at her breasts.

She had a fleeting thought that they were giving the security monitors one hell of a show. But even that thought couldn't stop her from grinding herself harder against Mike as she strove to satisfy the pounding ache between her thighs.

She almost sobbed when he abruptly pulled away and set her on her feet.

"This is your floor," he said.

Indeed, the elevator doors were open, and a middle-age couple stared at them with eyes the size of dinner plates. Pulling her blouse up in what she hoped was a nonchalant manner, she followed Mike from the elevator.

Mike was looking at the room signs, trying to find the hallway to her room. He glanced over and met her gaze, an unmistakable glint of amusement in his eyes.

"I think those poor people thought they were getting on the elevator straight to Sodom and Gomorrah," she said shakily. Then it all struck her as too funny, and she started to laugh. And once she started, she couldn't stop. Mike started laughing too, and pretty soon they were holding each other up as they leaned against the wall.