L.A. Confidential (11 page)

“It's fabulous.”

“For your movie, I mean.” He held his hand out, and she took it, then followed him into the den. A fire burned in the fireplace, and he led her to a flowered love seat perfectly positioned to view the flames. He urged her down onto the seat next to him, his arm slipping around her shoulders. “I think it's very, very sexy.”

“Well, yes, I see what you mean.” She was breathless, her pulse racing. The combination of dim lights, crackling fire, and the man beside her was working on her like a drug, and she wanted to succumb, wanted to lose herself in his arms.

With her next breath, she found his lips on hers, and she opened her mouth, inviting him in. His mouth, hard and demanding, played against hers, coaxing and urging until she found herself melting in his embrace.

His tongue sought entrance, and after granting it, she explored his mouth. He tasted of red wine and heat, and she delved deeper, wanting to consume and be con
sumed. Wanting to forget their past and lose herself in their present.

His hands stroked her back and shoulders, before moving to the bodice of the sundress and bathing suit she wore. Her breasts swelled tight against the material as her body rose to meet his caress. Tender yet demanding, he plied her with kisses and touches, until she was quivering with need, until her blood ran hot and she couldn't think of anything other than her pure, demanding need for him.

“Ken,” she whispered. “Oh, please, Ken.”

 

H
IS ENTIRE BODY
tightened, his desire for her a physical thing, more pernicious than even the need to eat or sleep. He had to have her, and it took every ounce of strength in his body to pull away.

She looked at him quizzically, a little V appearing above her forehead. Her lips were swollen and red though she wore no lipstick. “What?”

“Not yet,” he whispered, gathering his own resolve. “I have something planned.”

“From Here to Eternity?”

“Or my version, anyway.” He let his gaze drift over her. He'd almost considered stocking her closet with nothing more than a dress similar to the red one she had refused to wear for him. But no—he'd see her in that red dress when the moment was right. And so he'd selected a simple sundress from the boutique on the first floor of the Bellisimo.

The color of the summer sky, the dress was carefree and innocent. His plans weren't innocent, though, and now he traced his finger over the formfitting bod
ice, thrilling at the peak of her nipple beneath the thin cotton.

“Please,” she whispered, her eyes closed.

“Please what?”

She opened her eyes, wide and imploring. “Don't tease me.”

His thumb grazed her hard nipple, and she moaned, leaning her head back and moving ever so slightly closer to his touch. His pulse beat faster, ignited by her open response to him. “Do you think I'm teasing?”

“I don't know anymore. All I know is that I want—” She broke off, her teeth worrying on her lower lip.

His took a ragged breath. She was about to admit she wanted him, needed his touch, his caress. “Want what?”

Goose bumps rose on her arms before she leaned back, rubbing herself as if cold. “Nothing.” She shook her head. “I don't know. It doesn't matter.”

“It matters to me.”

She didn't meet his eyes. Instead she gnawed on her lip as she turned, inspecting the small room. “Are you taking me outside?”

“Maybe I'm taking you to heaven.” He tried to keep a straight face, but in the end, he cracked a smile at the cliché that had rolled off his lips. He'd wanted to be serious, to keep her on a sensual precipice, but even more, he wanted her completely comfortable with him. The realization disturbed him, and he frowned, determined to keep his plan at the forefront of his mind.

For a second she just looked startled. Then she laughed, too. Rolling her eyes before nudging him with her shoulder. “I'd forgotten how much of a nut you can be.”

“Is that good or bad?”

She took his hand, then inhaled a long breath. “Good that you're a nut,” she said. She turned away, apparently fascinated with Maria's hardwood floor. “Bad that I'd forgotten.”

He felt beads of sweat erupt on his upper lip. She was standing right there in front of him, looking so much like the Lisa he'd known and loved years before. He wanted to gather her into his arms and rock away her fears, wanted to promise her he'd make it all better.

Mentally, he shook himself. He'd made a promise to himself to not get lost in sentimentality, and that was a promise he intended to keep. If he didn't, he'd be risking his heart. And that was a risk he couldn't afford to take.

“Ken?” She was looking at him, her brow furrowed. “I said that it was bad that I'd forgotten.”

He waved a hand as if shaking off moodiness. “I guess it's good I'm here to remind you.”

A tentative smile danced on the corner of her mouth.

“Now,” he continued, “about that dress.” He moved toward her, reaching out to sample the material once again.

She skipped backward, laughing. “Uh-uh. Not until you tell me where we're going.”

“All right.”

“Really? You're actually going to give me some advance notice?”

He smiled, enjoying teasing her. “A bit.” He nodded toward the dress. “Got anything on under that?”

“As a matter of fact, I'm wearing a swimsuit. Just like you asked me to.”

“Good girl.” He grinned, slow and devious. “Then you're dressed for the occasion.”

She cast an exasperated glance toward the ceiling. “That's as much information as you're gonna give me, isn't it?” she asked, unable to keep the smile from her voice.

“'Fraid so.” Taking her arm, he steered her toward the back door and into Maria's fabulous backyard.

Ken had met Maria at the opening of his first restaurant in Malibu three years ago. The granddaughter of a silent film star that Ken had never heard of, she'd inherited her extravagant home on the beach along with a tidy trust fund. She didn't need money, but she did need company, and so she'd converted the house into a bed-and-breakfast.

Ken had gotten into the habit of coming down at least every couple of months to walk along the beach and relax by the pool. So far, he'd kept Maria's place a secret, not sharing it with anyone. But somehow, he'd wanted to share it with Lisa. It was his oasis, his place to get away from it all, and damn, if he hadn't wanted to escape with her.

Now, though, he wasn't certain he'd made the right choice. This was the kind of place a man brought a lover, not a…whatever Lisa was to him these days.

Part of him considered turning around, getting back in the car and taking her to the next place on his list, deep in the heart of the city. But when she tugged on his hand, her fingers closing around his, all doubts faded.

“This is amazing,” she whispered. “It's like a fairyland.”

He took a deep breath, realizing that no matter what
else, right then he was completely happy. “It is, isn't it?”

Maria's home sat perched above the ocean, with access to the beach from a well-preserved cliffside spiral staircase. The view itself was lovely, but Maria's backyard gave it a run for its money. A customized swimming pool stole the focus of the yard. Deep at one end, the far end sloped toward the ocean, allowing a bather to lie half in and half out of the shallow water. Electronic gadgetry created a wave effect, making it the perfect place to make love in the surf—without the sand and freezing water of the Pacific.

Lisa nodded toward the pool, her expression knowing. “Your plan?”

He grinned, taking her hand to lead her to the far side of the yard. “Something like that.”

The pool was surrounded by a hardwood deck. Potted plants filled every nook and cranny, giving the yard the delicious odor of spring. Above, tiny white lights, strung through the branches of the surrounding trees, twinkled in unison with the stars. Lisa was right; it was a fairyland.

They were standing next to the railing, looking down at the surf as it crashed against the beach below.

“Let's go down,” she said.

“I drive all this way to find a suitable substitute for sand and cold water, and you want to go down anyway?”

Her eyes danced in the light, and his heart twisted at seeing how happy she looked. “Absolutely.”

“Then by all means.”

Though stable, the stairs were vertigo-inducing, and he went first, walking half backward so he could keep
hold of her hand. She didn't protest, and that merely ratcheted his happiness up another level.

When they reached the beach, she threw her arms out and twirled, her skirt flaring, her face alight with laughter. “It's beautiful here! I've missed the beach so much.”

She laughed, her cheeks turning pink, and he was surprised by how much the sound delighted him. He wanted to stay angry, but the more time he spent with her the duller the edge on his anger became.

She took his hand and tugged him toward the water, while he stood his ground in mock protest.

“That water's cold!”

Slipping out of her sandals, she urged him further toward the breaking waves. “Wimp.”

Thoroughly amused, he tilted his head back, imploring the heavens. “I went out of my way to find a nice, warm pseudo-ocean, and this is what I get for my troubles.”

She danced around in front of him, her eyes bright as she caught his gaze. An impish grin played on her lips. “I don't want pseudo-anything.” Her voice pitched lower and she dropped her eyes. “I want the real thing.”

When she looked back at him, she was smiling shyly, her eyes darting away, unable to hold his gaze.

His pulse beat an unsteady rhythm, and he licked his dry lips. What was she saying? Was she talking about sex, or more? He didn't know, not for certain, but he sure as hell intended to find out. “Come on,” he said, more brusquely than he intended. “Let's explore the beach.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Her voice was low, sultry, and his body reacted immediately. He suddenly realized exactly what was happening. Lisa had turned the tables
on him. His Lisa, who hated being in the dark about anything, was trying her hand at seduction.

He grinned. If she was so desperate for him she was willing to seduce him, then he'd already won. And damn if he didn't look forward to claiming his prize.

H
E'D BEEN KEEPING
her off-kilter, and Lisa intended to turn the tables. Though considering her body's reaction to an imaginary Ken, she had to wonder if her plan was such a brilliant idea. But she had no intention of turning back. None. He'd said he wanted her. And he was damn well going to get her…even if forcing the issue was a huge mistake.

“Lisa?” He was watching her, his expression hesitant.

With a quick nod of her head, she gestured toward the beach. “Come on.” She grabbed his hand and tugged, urging him toward the water's edge.

“This is the Pacific, you know. The water's damn cold.”

“Really?” Gathering her courage, she took a deep breath and stepped toward him, until she was close enough that the hem of her dress brushed against his clothes. “Then maybe we need to do something to keep each other warm.”

She didn't see him stiffen, but somehow she knew that he had. Trying for sultry, she looped one arm around
his neck, stepping nearer to close the tension-filled space between them. The position felt awkward, not right. And for the first time, she realized how much they'd lost when she'd left for New York.

In the past, they'd fit together perfectly. Their eyes only needed to meet and she'd known what he'd been thinking. His finger had only to touch her and she'd melted. Never in her life had she shared such intimacy with another person, and she'd thrown it all away to chase rainbows.

She'd screwed up, maybe permanently. And nothing she could say or do would ever make it better. But, oh, how she wanted to try.

Sagging, she leaned against him, pressing her face against his shoulder.

“Hey, hey. Shh.” His arms closed around her, safe and comforting, and she realized she was crying. She sniffled, but didn't pull away. His arms were tight around her waist, her body pressed up against his chest so she could draw on his strength. It felt wonderful, and a silly little part of her wished she could stay that way forever.

Slowly, soothingly, his hand rubbed her back. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I'm fine,” she mumbled.

And the truth of it was, she
was
fine. Right then, being held by him, she didn't think anything in the world would faze her. And what had felt awkward and odd only moments ago, now felt like the most right thing on earth. His strong arms encircled her, pulling their bodies together. They fit perfectly, as if they'd been designed for each other. Her arm, which only moments ago had felt heavy and strange around his neck, now
urged him closer. Her fingers explored the back of his neck, teasing the short hairs at the base of his haircut. Each touch seemed right, as if she'd touched him this way five years ago…and every day since.

She needed his kisses, needed his heat, and she rose on tiptoes to close her mouth over his. He responded instantly, opening his mouth for her. His hands eased down to cup her rear, urging her against him with one quick pull.

Her body was nearing the melting point, and she was certain that if he let go of her, she'd simply collapse on the sand.

He pulled away, taking the heat that now flowed through her veins with him.

“No.” Barely a murmur, her voice pleaded, even though her saner side told her to pull herself together. Right then, she didn't want sanity. Instead, she wanted to be lost in the maelstrom with no cognitive thought. She wanted simply the moment. Simply Ken.

His arms tightened around her waist, but that wasn't enough. She wanted more. Wanted to feel him against every inch of her. Wanted
him.

His lips grazed her ear, sending little tremors scurrying down her back. Moaning, she tilted her head, inviting him to continue the sweet torment. He accepted the invitation like a gentleman, his mouth moving down her neck.

“More,” she whispered. She twisted in his arms, wanting to explore his mouth. But she moved too fast, and they tumbled down into the sand and surf.

Suddenly she was on her back, Ken poised above her, his eyes dark with undisguised lust. And just as
suddenly, Lisa wondered what exactly she'd gotten herself into.

 

S
HE WAS RIGHT THERE
, close enough to kiss. And Ken intended to do exactly that.

Cold water tickled his feet as the surf rolled in. The hems of his khakis were soaked, and he was sure that Lisa was just as wet.

But she wasn't complaining. Instead, she was looking up at him, eyes wide and inviting.

“Your theme,” she whispered.

“Yes, it is.” He lowered himself to her. “Eternity,” he whispered, then kissed her.

She seemed to melt against him, fitting perfectly, as if she were meant for no one except him.

Her lips were soft and swollen, still ripe from his earlier kisses, and now he teased her mouth, tasting her lips with just the tip of his tongue.

She laughed, the noise mixed with soft protests as she tried to urge him to deepen the kiss. “Patience, sweetheart.”

“I'm not patient,” she whispered. “I thought you would have remembered.”

He did remember, and that was one reason why his particular choice of punishment was so apropos. He nipped her earlobe. “Maybe it's time you learned.”

“Maybe it's time I took charge.”

Before he realized what she was doing, she'd managed to roll over, taking him with her, until she was on top, and he was lying back on the sand. She straddled his hips, and though he didn't think it was possible, his body hardened even more, simply from the knowledge that she was right there, her sweet, slick core pressed
right against him. He needed to take it further, wanted her to know how aroused he was. Grabbing her hips, he rocked her against him, the motion sending a frenzied burst of electricity coursing through him.

“Oh, Ken.” Her voice was low and soft with pleasure.

“Do you like that?”

“Y-yes.”

“Shall I stop?” He slowed the movement, torturing himself even as he teased her.

“No!” Her eyes flew open, and there was no mistaking the need he saw deep within. “Don't you dare,” she murmured.

Her honest desire thrilled him, and he smiled, taking her hips and rocking her against him until her breath was just as uneven as his.

“Better?” he murmured.

“Yes.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a shy smile as she moved her hands to balance on his chest. His body sang from her caresses. The warmth from her palms spread through him, despite the barrier of his shirt.

He grazed his hands up her back, no longer controlling the rocking motion of her hips. Though he wasn't urging her, she kept it up, writhing against him in an ancient rhythm as she sought her own release—her body silently promising to bring his, as well.

Control nearly abandoned him, and he fought the urge to let go and lose himself in the sweet delight of her arms. That wasn't what he'd planned, not yet, and he tried to take his mind off the way his blood burned by watching her.

Her eyes were closed, her features calm. But the composed picture was belied by her mouth. Her lips
were parted, and he could hear her unsteady breathing. Her tongue darted out, then her perfect white teeth grazed her lower lip. Her face was damp and rosy, and he thought he'd never seen a more beautiful sight. She was near to losing herself, and the knowledge brought him that much closer to the edge.

This was what he'd wanted—to have her on the brink of passion, brought there by him and for him. Now that she was there, though, he didn't want to torture and torment. Instead, he wanted her release, wanted to see pure joy in her eyes and know that he'd put it there.

And, Lord help him, the one thing he'd planned so carefully, the one thing he knew he needed most—to get her out of his system forever—was the one thing he absolutely didn't want.

 

T
HE UNIVERSE
was about to explode around her, and Lisa welcomed the frenzy, urging it on with every motion of her body. Ken's hands stroked her back as she writhed against him. She was wet and hot, and she wanted him inside her, filling her up and taking her places they'd never gone before. She wanted
him,
and she realized she always had and probably always would.

Right now, though, she wanted the release. She was so close, right there, and she sucked in air, concentrating on the feel of Ken against her. So close… So very close…

And then she wasn't. Instead, she was on her back in the cool sand, and Ken was straddling her, his body not touching hers. Passion burned on his face, undeniable yet controlled.

“What?” she whispered, both disappointed and confused. “I was—”

“Shh-hhh.” He pressed a finger to her lips. “We were getting ahead of ourselves. I have a plan, remember? A theme.” His smile was warm but firm. “I intend to stick to it.”

“I don't mind a little improvisation.” She tried to keep her voice light, to not let him know just how much she'd wanted to lose herself in his arms. He had an agenda, and she'd already revealed too much.

“Come on.” He stood, holding out a hand for her to grab. “Let's get cleaned up and then go visit the pool.”

“Cleaned up?”

He cocked his head toward the stairs, and she saw the concrete foundation and free-standing shower.

She quirked a brow. “A little good, clean fun?”

“Something like that.” He ran his hand down the side of her bathing suit. “We're both gritty, and your dress has seen better days.”

“Can't have that.”

She followed him to the shower, then pulled off the sundress and, wearing only her bathing suit, stepped into the spray. “It's warm.” Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back, letting the droplets caress her face and trickle down her body.

“Want a little help?” His voice was playful, almost sensual, and she opened her eyes as a gentle burst of warm water from another source sprayed over her chest.

Ken was standing in front of her, holding a water hose, a stream of water gushing onto her breasts. “I thought I could help you clean up some of those hard-to-reach places.”

“Uh, oh.” She swallowed, then tried again. “I—”

He aimed the water lower, hitting her right between
the legs, and she snapped her mouth shut, not at all certain what she could possibly have had to say.

“Shh,” Ken whispered. “Close your eyes. Let me get you clean.”

Closing her eyes, for the first time in her life she wished she were covered in grime. The water from the hose splashed on her toes, and she giggled, stepping lightly to escape the droplets.

“Too cold?”

“No.” The water was warm, and in truth it felt wonderful. She was just wound up.

“Relax,” he said. “Close your eyes and keep them closed.”

She nodded and tried to comply.

“You've got sand in your hair,” he said, and with his words came the warm, light flow of water, dribbling over her head, cutting warm, wet paths down her arms, down her chest, over her breasts. Her body quaked, nearly undone by the exquisite sensations.

“Do you like that?”

“Yes. It's…”

“I know.” The water flowed over her lips—he must have been holding the hose sideways so that liquid flowed gently against the sensitive skin of her mouth. Then his lips brushed hers through the flow as he kissed her, deep and wet.

The hose moved away, and then she felt the water snaking down her back, the delicious warmth spreading through her. His kiss deepened, his tongue demanding entrance that she readily allowed.

A moan escaped her as she explored his mouth, tasting him, taking in the maleness, wishing she could surround herself with him and lose herself in his heat.
She was wet, a wetness that had nothing to do with the hose.

She tried to pull away, needing the distance before he pulled her over the edge merely from his kisses. But he held her close, his teeth nibbling on her lip, his tongue mating with hers.

Her body was spinning. She wanted to open her eyes, wanted to see the world spinning out of control, wanted to meet his gaze. But she'd promised and so she kept her eyes shut, seeing only the colors exploding in her own mind.

So close, so much need, and she urged her hips forward, wanting him to touch her, wanting him to take her that tiny bit further where his kisses couldn't go. But he stepped back, refusing her silent plea for him to stroke her in secret places, to touch her, to finish what he'd started.

“What do you want?”

“I—I want you. Please, Ken. Please.”

He kissed her again, rougher, deeper. She gasped, not from the force of his kisses, but from the shock of the hose between her legs. The stream of water touching her exactly how she'd wanted
him
to touch her. A wave of embarrassment washed over her, but faded quickly as she lost herself to the sensations. So vivid, so astounding.

“Spread your legs,” he said, and she did, letting him touch her without touching her.

And then, before she was ready, before she saw it coming, the world exploded, and she arched back against his arm, trusting him to keep her upright. Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath.

“That looked like it felt nice.” His soft voice tickled her ear.

She opened her eyes and found him smiling at her, the look of pure male satisfaction unmistakable. “That was…amazing.”

“Glad you liked it.”

She licked her lips, sated, but still wanting more. “So, back to Maria's now?”

“That's my plan.” He rubbed the towel vigorously over his hair, then draped it across her shoulders.

“To whose room?” She asked the question boldly, but her stomach was turning somersaults. She wanted him in her bed—hell, she wanted him in
her
—but she wasn't quite willing to beg for it.

She could read the answer from the look on his face—casual, devious, yet a little sad. “It's still my game, sweetheart.”