Out of Control (12 page)

“Oh, my God.” Margot put her hands up over her cheeks and found them feverishly hot. “Wait, wait. Are we talking about sex? How did we get onto sex without me noticing? I didn't see any road signs.”

“Please let me finish.”

Her heart pounded. She pressed her hand over her mouth.

“You're a beautiful woman,” he said. “I've admired you ever since the day I met you. I'm fascinated by you. I want to go to bed with you.”

She looked out at the water, at the salad, at the half-empty wine bottle, anywhere but his eyes. It sounded so…bald, put like that.

“Oh,” she whispered. “I, uh, see.”

“You said last night that you don't have the time or energy for a boyfriend. You also said you don't do no-strings sex. I'm in the same situation. I don't like anonymous sexual encounters, but I'm not interested in commitment or marriage, either. With anyone, so don't take it personally. I value my private time and space and privacy. But I am interested in having an affair with you.”

“I see.” She couldn't drag in enough breath to fill her lungs.

“You need protection from this stalker,” he went on. “You would need it whether you went to the police or not. I would like to help you solve this problem. It would give me a great deal of personal satisfaction to turn this asshole who's bothering you into a grease spot on the road.”

“Uh, thank you.” She felt like she should say something intelligent at this point, express some opinion, but her mind was completely blank of intelligent opinions. All the available space was occupied by the mind-blowing concept of an affair with Davy McCloud.

“I would be glad to help you out with your financial difficulties,” he said. “I'm not rich, but I don't have money problems.”

“And in return, I have sex with you?” Margot blurted.

Davy let out a slow breath. She sensed that he was gathering his patience. “In return, we enjoy a mutually satisfying affair,” he said carefully. “With no illusions about the future.”

She wished she could be cool and detached, like him, but she'd never been able to be nonchalant about sex, no matter how she tried. Confusion and fear churned together inside her. “Why don't you just call a classy escort service? It would be less trouble for you,” she said.

The swift flash of anger in his eyes was quickly hidden behind his usual cool self-control. “The idea doesn't turn me on. You do.”

“Oh. Thanks, I guess,” she whispered.

He picked up his wine and swirled the liquid around the glass. “Just think about my offer. I make it very respectfully.”

“Sex without commitment is not respectful,” she said.

His eyebrows lifted. “Depends on how one goes about it.”

A gust of wind off the lake lifted her hair, and made her shiver. “You're so cool,” she whispered. “And I'm so not. I don't know how to be. Not in any sense of the word. I try, but I just can't manage it.”

“I know you're not. That's why I want you. I never said I wanted the sex to be cool.”

She felt it with an awareness that went beyond her senses; a force blazing out of him that rocked her backwards. A swirl of erotic images went through her mind and her tingling body; naked with Davy McCloud, kissing him, touching him, clutching his big body as he pinned her down, moving inside her. He would be dominant in bed, like he was dominant in everything. He exuded it from every pore.

She didn't go for that, as a rule. She made a point of picking out guys who were unthreatening. Dominant, macho guys weren't her thing, never had been. Too much conflict. Nothing but trouble.

In fact, this was a scenario that would normally have provoked a sense of suffocated panic, swiftly followed by the urge to make a lame excuse and flee like a bunny before things went any further.

The feeling that raced through her now was panic of a very different kind. A flush of heat that swept across her skin, tingling and burning. A clenching, low and tight in her body around a glow of bright awareness, like something waking up inside her, an animal hunger that she didn't even recognize as her own. It pulsed hot and soft in her chest, quivered in her throat, behind her eyes. Tingling in her hands.

Sexual energy pulsed off him in waves, in spite of the cool calculation in his eyes. He was probably imagining the same scene as she; he being the lord of the manor, running the show, taking what he pleased while she writhed and whimpered, in his thrall. Desperate for it.

Her chair flew over backwards and crashed to the porch floor as she sprang to her feet. She avoided meeting his eyes as she picked it up.

She wanted to run, and she wanted him to stop her. He could probably read it in her face, that his twisted offer excited her as much as it shamed her. She turned to lean on the porch railing, lifting her hot face to cool it in the breeze off the lake.

Her classic tendency to get involved with guys who wanted to use her was rearing its ugly head at the worst possible time.

But at least Davy McCloud was honest about wanting to use her, her inner devil slut whispered. No sweet lying promises from him. He just opened his mouth and let the hard truth drop out.

She loved that about him, even when she hated him for it. And he was offering to let her use him, too. No small thing, considering.

Damn him. Damn this whole kinky situation. And damn her for being desperate and screwed up and turned on enough to actually…

Consider it.

She felt his warm presence looming behind her. “I didn't mean to upset you.” His voice was low and tentative.

“I'm not upset,” she lied. “It's just…problematic, that's all.”

He hesitated. “On the contrary. I'm trying to simplify things.”

She shook her head. “You really don't get it, do you? It's simpler for you, but not for me. All the simplicity for you is at my expense.”

He leaned on the railing next to her. “I don't follow you. How do you figure?”

She slanted him a quick, impatient look. “Because you're a man! Duh! Because you would have the upper hand from the very start. The power dynamic would be screwy. You might feel entitled to demand sex when I don't feel like it. Or to do things I'm not comfortable with. Or—”

“Not a problem.”

She glared at him. “Oh, yeah? And how would you know what is or isn't a problem for me? Are you psychic, or all-knowing?”

“No.” He touched the back of her neck, winding a lock of hair around his fingertip. The glancing touch sent pleasure rippling down her back. “It's just that my pleasure has everything to do with yours.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against the back of her neck.

She almost sank to her knees, they went so soft. She gripped the porch railing. “Davy. God,” she whispered. “Don't do this to me.”

His breath fanned across her shoulder. “That's what I'm hungry for, Margot. Your pleasure. I would never do anything to hurt you or make you feel bad. Believe me. It's not my thing.”

The words, the images, the rich, dark tone of his voice, all brushed over her like the tender touch of sable, or silk.

“Look at me, Margot,” he said quietly.

She did. The controlled hunger in his eyes made her want to grab onto him and cling like a vine, tight enough to cut off his blood supply.

Wow. A shortcut to self-loathing if there ever was one.

She pulled away. It took everything she had.

The devil slut on her shoulder practically howled in frustration. Why she was being so difficult and contrary? For God's sake, a sexy, appealing solution to her problem was presenting itself to her on a silver platter, and she wanted the comfort and distraction of his touch so badly, and he was so freaking gorgeous and yummy, offering to protect her from Snakey, too, and what was she,
nuts
?

Get it while you can
, the old song said. Good advice, but the song was talking about love, and Davy McCloud didn't want love. Wasn't in the market for it. Would not welcome it. That gave him the ultimate upper hand, even without his charisma overload, or his killer muscles.

And it gave her diddly squat. She was a mess. Crushed out and dizzy, more than half in love with him already. His strong, silent and mysterious routine made her totally wet. And he was just a guy, after all, which meant that he was capable of messing with her head without even meaning to, and never having a clue as to what he'd done, or how.

Most important, Davy had no idea how deep the trouble she was in actually was. If he found out, as he inevitably would, he wouldn't want to touch her with a ten-foot pole. No man in his right mind would.

She was the kiss of death, and she would hate to see the expression in his eyes change forever when he realized it. The very thought made her want to burst out crying.

She stepped away from him. “No,” she said, her voice resolute.

His hand slowly dropped from her hair. He said nothing, but his eyes and the heavy quality of his silence demanded an explanation.

She struggled to put her incoherent reasoning into words, at least the part she could share with him. “I can't afford this,” she blurted. “I'm wrecked. A strong wind would blow me away. I can't handle you, too, on top of everything else, Davy. You're too much. You're over the top.”

“You're very strong.” He did that trick with his voice again, sending delicious shivers over her neck, down her back, right into her lower body. “That's one of the many things that turn me on about you.”

She turned away, and leaned her hot face against her folded arms. “You don't know me, Davy. You're just projecting what you want to see. Because believe me, I don't feel strong right now. Not one bit.”

“I feel it, even if you don't.” His low voice vibrated with intensity. “You have so much power burning inside you. It lights you up. My gorgeous panther woman.”

She pressed her face harder against her arms. It had gone hot and red again. “Oh, please,” she muttered. “Don't be ridiculous.”

The evil, manipulative bastard. There was nothing that he could have said that she more desperately wanted to believe. The whole setup might have been specifically designed to test all her secret weaknesses. Seductive, muscle-bound stud offers to protect her from scary bad guy. In return, he wants only the privilege of driving her wild with erotic pleasure all night long. Whoo-hoo. The guy drove a hard bargain.

She broke into a sweat just thinking about it.

She had to hit the road quick, before she started behaving irresponsibly. “Thanks for dinner,” she said. “And thanks for helping me out today. I won't thank you for the indecent proposal, but…thanks for not putting the moves on me, at least.”

He shrugged. “No is no.”

“Hmm. Admirable sentiment. I appreciate your restraint.”
Almost as much as I regret it
, her devil slut added in sulky tones.

“It's taking years off my life.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked suspiciously. “You're suffering? Really?”

“The torments of hell.” His voice was solemn.

She studied his calm profile. “You look as cool as an ice cube.”

“It's a clever ruse to mask the seething volcano of my crazed lust,” he said. “To lure you into letting down your guard and reconsidering.”

That slow, sexy smile of his made her resolve waver. He was so outrageously cute when his dimples flashed like that. “It's not so smart to give me advance warning about your seething volcano of crazed lust.”

“I try to give my victims a sporting chance. It's only fair.”

The sexy charm rolling off him was deadly dangerous. “I have to go,” she said. “I'm sorry to leave you with all the dinner dishes, but I—”

“Don't.” His dimples vanished. “You're not safe there alone.”

No arguing with that, but hey, she wasn't safe anywhere. She tried to smile, but the effort was hollow. “I'll be fine.”

“Stay here,” he said. “Sleep in one of the spare bedrooms. There's plenty of space. I won't come on to you. You'll be safe. I swear to you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right.”

“What are you implying? That I would force myself on you?”

She laughed at the outrage on his face. “Don't get huffy and self-righteous on me, big guy. You're on shaky ground after your kinky kept-woman proposal. And it's not you I'm worried about anyhow, it's me.”

He looked baffled. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You're not the only one who has to resist temptation,” she said. “Some of us poor mortals don't have a lot of ironclad self-control. Some of us have to use other techniques to make ourselves behave properly. I can't stay in your house. You're way too sexy. My head would explode.”

He made a frustrated sound. “That's the most convoluted bullshit I ever heard. For God's sake, if you want me, take me! Here I am!”