Spider Game (24 page)

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Authors: Christine Feehan

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Spider Game
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How can you make everything sound hot? In your mind it even feels hot.
 

Because whatever I do to you is going to be hot and you’re going to like it.
 

Then it really isn’t a punishment, is it? Or a deterrent.
 

She had a point, but then he didn’t care. He was going to make everything hot and pleasurable for her. His teeth tugged harder.
Say it, Cayenne. Tell me you’ll be in my bed tonight.

Yes. Fine. But if I bite you, that’s on you, not me. You won’t be able to spank me because you’ll be paralyzed and at my mercy. That might be disappointing.
 

He let go of her lip, his tongue sliding over it to soothe the sting. “Maybe, but sooner or later, I’d come out of it and you’d have to face the music.” He straightened. “And then, baby, I wouldn’t be disappointing you in the least.”

He turned resolutely back to their breakfast. She’d given her word and he knew she wouldn’t break it, no matter how terrified she was. She had too much courage. “I’ve been considering this cooking business, Cayenne. Do you really want to learn?”

“I told you I did.” Her breath was still a little ragged but she sat up and began grating the last potato.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. She looked beautiful with that dazed, shocked look on her face, as if just that little encounter had been a gift from him. He’d made her body sing when he’d put his mark on her breast. She had quite a few of his marks, strawberries covering the soft curves. He wanted them on other, more secret places. He’d taken advantage the night before and put a couple on her inner thigh. He could see them, the little brands that said she was his.

“I didn’t realize men weren’t all that far from the cave days. Around you, baby, I feel pretty primitive.”

She flashed him a smile as she set aside the grater. “I don’t mind you being primitive. I kind of like it.”

She touched her breast, running her fingertip over the wet lace. The sight set him on fire all over again. It was an innocent gesture. She didn’t know how to be a siren, but she was one naturally. He suppressed a groan and forced his mind back to the task at hand. To give himself something to do besides jump her, he took the finished bowl of potatoes, drained the water and replaced it with more cold water.

“Nonny is a great cook. I mean really, really good. Her food isn’t the kind you find in a fancy restaurant, but it’s the best I’ve ever had. I think she pours love into everything she cooks.”

“The bread and soup, or whatever it was, was very good. I ate all of it. In small doses because when I’m not used to something, it can make me sick.”

“Nonny would teach you cooking in a heartbeat, Cayenne. Pepper is learning, from what Wyatt tells me, so you could get in on those lessons and have some girl time.”

There was a long silence. He looked up from beating the egg mixture. He already had the potatoes in the pan. She had gone very still. So still, he knew if it was dark and she was pressed against a wall, she’d be next to impossible to see. Like most of the GhostWalkers, she could change her skin color to mirror what was around her. She hadn’t done that, but her eyes had gone from a clear vibrant green to multifaceted. He was beginning to recognize her signs of distress.

Immediately he made certain the flame was low enough and turned to her, one hand cupping her face, his thumb sliding under her jaw. “What is it, baby? We talk about things, remember? We have to do that for this to work. It’s new territory for both of us.”

Her gaze slid away from his. She studied her hands, her fingers twisting together. He put his other hand over hers to still her fingers. His thumb caressed the soft, vulnerable sweep of her jaw.

“Baby,” he said softly. There was no response. He kept up the brushing strokes to soothe her. To let her know he had her back. “Cayenne, tell me what’s upsetting to you about going to Nonny’s and learning from her. I love this, the two of us, but honestly, I have limited knowledge of cooking. You don’t have to learn, but if you wanted it, she’s there and she would welcome you.”

She remained silent for another long moment. Finally,
finally
, she lifted her gaze to his. Her tongue touched her lower lip, leaving a wet gleam that instantly drew his attention.

She sighed. “I can barely force myself to trust you, Trap. This. What we’re doing, it terrifies me. I have no idea how to talk to anyone, what’s polite and what isn’t. I left all the talking to the men in the bar. I just laughed occasionally and murmured a word now and then. They were satisfied with that. It wasn’t like with you, where I feel like I can ask you questions and you don’t care if I screw everything up.”

“Do you think Nonny would form some sort of judgment of you if you made a mistake?”

She shrugged. “It’s her home. I wouldn’t care, but she means something to you. I can tell she does. Wyatt too. The others. Even Pepper. I feel that in some way, because you are choosing me, I represent you. I don’t want to make you look bad or silly or wrong for your choice in front of your friends.”

Trap let out his breath slowly. He was putting a lot of pressure on Cayenne without realizing it. She really didn’t have any experience with other people. She had no idea how to make small talk. She was good at taking cues from others, because she was extremely observant and she learned quickly, but she had to be a wreck inside.

“Baby, I love that you feel that way. I would never be embarrassed or upset over anything you did in front of my friends. Not ever. Nonny is the last person in the world to ever make a judgment on another human being. She’s the perfect woman to help you learn the things you feel are necessary to be with me. I can teach you anything you want in the abstract, or sex, or even in the lab, but I’m not good with niceties. In fact, Draden, a close friend of mine, is always handing me books on manners.”

“Really?”

He had no choice, he had to turn back and flip the potatoes and then pour the egg mixture into the skillet. “Yep. All the time. I could give a flying fuck about other people, but those people, Nonny, my team, Pepper and girls, they matter to me. But, Cayenne” – he turned back, looking her straight in the eyes, wanting her to see he meant exactly what he said – “
you’re
my family. You’re my woman. You’re going to be my wife. You’ll need to know the things Nonny can teach you, because out in the world, far from here, there are men with cameras and they will be all over us, the moment we step one foot outside the swamp. Sometimes they don’t wait for that. Pictures of me command a lot of money and if anyone gets wind of you, that picture will be worth even more.”

“I don’t understand.”

Of course she wouldn’t know the first thing about gossip magazines or the frenzy for stories and pictures on one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. The burning question remained, why had he joined the service and why had he put himself in harm’s way by training in the Special Forces? That alone was fodder for articles and speculation for months, years even.

“I’m just saying, honey.” He pushed the eggs around, making certain to pull the pan before they were entirely cooked. He didn’t like undercooked eggs, but he really detested overcooked ones. This method seemed to work. He pushed them around a little more, allowing them to continue to cook without the flame, just from the heat of the pan. “I’m not pushing you, but letting me take you to Nonny is a good idea.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He caught her around her small waist and lifted her to the floor. “Sit at the table. The plates are in the cupboard along the wall there.” They were in plain sight, but he wanted to give her a task to take her mind off meeting his friends. He needed a little more time to figure out how best to get her to a place where she felt comfortable with him and then with others. “Silverware is in the top drawer beneath the cupboard where the plates are. Grab a couple of the smaller glasses for orange juice as well.”

He watched her moving in silence, her body swaying as she stood on her toes to reach for the plates, stretching all the way out. He nearly went to help her, but he knew that could be dangerous. The sight of her like that, her back to him, long hair swaying, caressing the curve of her shapely ass, her tiny tucked in-waist with just a bow around it, had him as hard as a rock all over again. He had to fight off the hunger in his cock.

She used silk, attaching it to the two plates and drawing them toward her. Her drag lines were strong, he knew that. Spider drag lines could be every bit as strong as the Kevlar used in their vests. She was adept at using silk. She pulled the plates to her, caught them and transferred them to her other hand so she could pull out the silverware. She used the same method to get the small glasses out of the cupboard.

He didn’t have fancy. He hadn’t thought about fancy. He should have. For her. His dinnerware wasn’t fine china, more thick crockery that appealed to the man in him. She didn’t seem to mind. She actually ran a finger over the plate a little reverently.

“These are beautiful, Trap. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He should have known. Fancy was all relative. She’d been fed nutritious rations, probably on a paper plate, nothing she could turn into another weapon. The crockery was stoneware, hand-cast and painted. He had big hands. He needed plates and glasses and mugs that didn’t make him feel he would crush them if he wasn’t thinking about it every second. “Glad you like them, babe,” he said, as he put the eggs and hash browns on their plates. “When we’re finished here, I thought we could head into New Orleans and pick you up some clothes. That way, if you want to return those camisoles and jeans you can, although I have to tell you, I like the camisoles.”

She glanced up from pouring the orange juice and sent him a little smile. “That’s a little scary too, Trap.”

“Not when you’re with me. You don’t have to say or do a thing. We’ll look at the clothes. Either of us likes something, you can try it on and we’ll buy it.”

“I don’t have money, and I’m not taking yours.” She sat down in her chair, lifting her chin at him, her face set in stubborn lines.

He stared across at her for a moment, and then slowly, his grin came. The smile started around his heart and just continued from there. “Baby, that would sound a lot more intimidating if you weren’t so fucking cute sitting there with your chin on the table. You need a booster seat.”

She glared at him.

“I’m just stating a fact.”

“Very funny.” She shifted, drawing her knees under her. “You aren’t paying for me, Trap. I’ve read enough to know that’s not how it works, so don’t try to convince me otherwise.”

He leaned across the table, holding her gaze, wanting her to know this was a point he wouldn’t yield on. “I don’t give a fuck what other people do in their relationships, Cayenne.
I’m
the man.
I
take care of my woman. I don’t care if you make a million bucks spinning webs and selling them,
I
still take care of you. That’s who I am. That’s the man you’re going to spend your life with. I pay. You let me. And you do it graciously.”

“What do I give you to make things equal between us?”

His gaze moved over her face with swift impatience. “What you give me is everything I ask of you. Being here with me when you’re scared out of your fucking mind. Trying to cook for me when you don’t have a clue how. Wearing an apron and nothing else just because I ask you to. Following my commands when I tell you to touch yourself. Letting me leave my mark all over you because you knew it was important to me. Sitting on my face when it was frightening. Giving me the gift of watching you come apart with just my mouth on you. Sucking my cock and swallowing when you didn’t have to, just to please me. Having a fucking brain and not being a nitwit so I’m not tempted to tape your mouth closed like I am with nearly every other woman I’ve…”

“I get it, Trap. Stop talking about your other women. I’ll go into town with you, and you can buy me my own shoes. The ones I have are too big and I hate them. I have to stuff paper in the toes and they’re so uncomfortable.”

He scowled. “You should have told me right away.”

“It’s no big deal, but since you want to buy me something and you’re getting all manly and growly and caveman about it, then shoes are what I need.” She took a forkful of eggs tentatively. “I like these.”

“Try the potatoes. Manly? Growly?” He poured approval into his voice. “Now you get it. That’s me, baby, I’m the man and you concede in all things to your man.”

She rolled her eyes, and he wondered just where she’d gotten that particular gesture or whether it just came naturally to her. He was fairly certain the eye roll meant she wasn’t taking him all that seriously.

CHAPTER 10

C
ayenne moved closer to the protection of Trap’s body. He was such a big man and fitting under his shoulder the way she did, his arm around her, she all but disappeared as they walked together toward the boutique he’d asked Wyatt about. She was aware of the two men flanking them, trying to give them space, which she was grateful for, but she didn’t like that Trap thought they needed them. Draden and the man they called Gino gave her a half salute with their chins and then acted like they were busy noticing the sights.

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