Turbulent Sea (25 page)

Joley looked alarmed—and intrigued. "Really? Well save them for another time. I'm wiped out."

"I know,
lyubimaya moya
, go to sleep and I'll watch over you." He stretched out beside her. "And this should go on the pro side of your list as well," he muttered under his breath.

Joley curled close to him and smiling, closed her eyes.

Chapter 10

LYING beside any attractive woman for three hours could give a man a raging hard-on, but watching Joley sleep, with her lush, curvaceous body and her soft skin, had created a monster.

In those hours she barely moved, her face young and relaxed, the fingers of her hand curled against her palm as if protecting Ilya's mark. Dawn crept in through the blinds, spilling light across her face. She looked like an angel, with her silky hair in disarray on the pillow and her long lashes curving in two thick crescents on her cheeks. And then she moved restlessly, turning toward him, whispering his name, and he lost all pretense of control.

There was nothing saintly about him, and there never would be. There was no way he could lie beside her and not need to touch her soft skin or taste her wild, honeyed flavor. He had known, when the doors of the bus had closed, that he was going to seduce her. She wanted him. The truth was in her eyes when she looked at him, in the feminine fragrance of her body and the seductive sound of her voice. She was fighting her attraction because she didn't trust him, she didn't fully believe he wasn't the bad man he was reputed to be—but she wanted him with every cell in her body, in just the same way he wanted her.

His reaction to her, the first time he'd actually laid eyes on her, had been so physical, so sharp and strong, the ache in his body becoming a permanent part of him in her presence. He'd tried to convince himself he could have her and not be emotionally touched by her. She'd dashed that ridiculous hope completely.

Joley was a strong woman with strong moral convictions. The chemistry between them flared bright and hot, but he was a man in the shadows—and he had to remain there. It would take finesse to overcome Joley's convictions, and there would be repercussions, but damn, he'd waited as long as he could wait.

He needed to touch her silken skin, stroke his hands over her lush, curvy body, sink into the fiery heat of her and bury himself deep and hard, over and over, until she could never think of another man—look at another man—feel the least chemistry with another man, as she did with Rick Henderson, her bass player. She might not acknowledge that she did, but he felt a spark each time the two were together, and that was unacceptable to him. Her emotional dependence on Brian felt like a threat as well. Ilya wasn't into sharing any part of Joley.

He was through being the gentleman and protector; he was going to stake his claim in no uncertain terms, because if he didn't—he would go quietly insane. His body was already so sensitive he couldn't stand the painful press of fabric against his skin for even one more moment. With one hand he tore his shirt over his head, then he went around to every window and slid the privacy screens in place, signaling to everyone that Joley was sleeping and to leave her alone should they stop. He took the precaution of locking the door to the outside as well as the one to the driver's compartment because he wasn't going to allow any interruptions. He left one dim light on because he had to see her face, watch her emotion as he took possession of her.

He shed his jeans, grateful for the cool air on his hot body. His erection was fierce, thick and painful, a reminder of the months of long, sleepless nights when he'd lain in a cold bed and thought of her, his hand on his shaft and emptiness surrounding him. Nothing sated his need for her, no matter how-many times he relieved himself or how many cold showers he took. One thought of her, the sound of her voice, her music, a glimpse of her brought the painful lust roaring back stronger than ever.

Joley. Just Joley. She was the sexiest woman he'd ever encountered, and he'd met many trained in the art of driving men wild. Joley needed no such training. She was naturally sensual with her curvy body, her husky voice and the fluid, feminine grace with which she moved. He bent his head to hers, unable to resist that full, beautiful mouth. He'd had a lot of fantasies about her mouth, warm and velvet soft and so perfect it could stop a man's heart.

He wasn't feeling gentle at all, he was feeling animalistic and in desperate need of taking her. He could hear his music now, not at all soft and bluesy, but wild and dominant like a heavy metal band. The pounding pulse of the music matched the way he needed to drive deep into her body. The heavy bass throbbed in his groin, and the drum beat through his veins demanding satisfaction. He caught both wrists as she came awake, stretching her arms above her head and pinning them to the mattress.

"Kiss me, Joley. Don't think. Just kiss me."

Beneath him, she froze, her lashes lifting. She looked dazed and drowsy, a little fearful, but she wanted him. He could see instant desire flare in her eyes.

Joley's breath stilled. For a moment she couldn't think or breathe. Butterflies whirled and danced in her stomach, fluttering their wings until every muscle bunched and tightened in anticipation. Immediately her body responded to his, this one man who would be her downfall if she let him. Desire pulsed hot and wet between her legs. Her entire body vibrated, almost as if humming to his song.

She was aware instantly that he was naked, and her gaze, of its own accord, shifted to his thick, heavily muscled chest, the bulging muscles in his arms. He was lying on his stomach beside her, and his butt was tight and firm and totally sculpted the way she'd always imagined. Her heart kicked in, and her blood heated, drowning her in desire.

She heard his song, blending with hers, the wild, intoxicating timbre, roughened with lust. There were more instruments beneath that hammering beat, the soft and tender notes of a flute, a violin moaning, almost pleading—
save me
—
save me
—and the saxophone introducing a haunting lonely note, but all that was nearly drowned out by the relentless pounding command of the drums and the crash of cymbals making adamant demands. His song merged with hers, blending and then overtaking hers, the wild strains a fiery, passionate declaration of ownership that swept away her resistance. The combination was heady and enticing, a powerful aphrodisiac she couldn't resist.

Arousal teased her breasts, danced over her thighs, slid into her stomach to wreak chaos. She stared up at the face only inches from hers. Strong-boned, straight nose, firm mouth, eyes as deep blue as the sea itself, eyes that were too old for his years, held too much knowledge and too much pain—or nothing at all. She inhaled sharply. Right now those blue eyes glittered with arousal—with lust—with the need for her—for the heat and fire she could provide.

"Kiss me, Joley." His voice was nearly a growl.

She recognized the command. He wouldn't close that scant inch between them; he was insisting she give herself to him.

"I'm afraid."

"I know." His hands framed her face, his body shifting even more to blanket hers. "Kiss me now."

"If I do this, there's no going back for me. You're asking me to give myself to you, and I won't ever be the same."

One hand, warm and rough, slid down her throat, over the swell of her breast, moved with infinite slowness over her thin shirt to find the hem. Fingers bunched the material and his fist caressed her stomach, still holding her shirt. "Kiss me."

Molten liquid pooled low and wicked. Inner muscles rippled and heated. His voice was implacable. Imperative. Commanding. The sound sent a shiver down her spine, teased her nipples into hard pebbles. She took a ragged breath. She was so susceptible to him.

"Ilya." His name came out a raspy whisper. A plea to save her from herself.

His head lowered, his silky hair brushing over her skin like caressing fingers. His lips brushed over her neck just below her ear, tongue licking wickedly, teeth scraping, sending her nerve endings into shock. He lifted his head again, his gaze, hot and hungry, colliding with her desperate one. "Kiss me, Joley. Stop running and kiss me."

Heat radiated from his body. His need for her surrounded her, enclosed her in raw sexual hunger. His song crashed around her, demanding her compliance, terrifying her even as it seduced her. Her womb contracted. Her obsession for him stole her breath. She knew what he was asking—no—demanding. He wanted surrender—complete surrender.

She touched his lips, tracing the firm, warm curves. "Do you know what you're asking of me? Do you really know who I am?" She was really asking if she was safe, but she could see by his expression he wouldn't let her get away with that. He insisted on blind trust.

"Damn it, Joley. Fucking kiss me now."

His voice was rough, agonized, almost a growl, but so sensual Joley felt a spasm in her deepest core. She cried out, a gasping plea, tormented with hunger for him. It seemed as if she'd needed him for so long she couldn't think of anything else but having him buried inside her. His hand slid down the slope of her belly, sending each muscle curling into a tight ball of desire. In desperation she closed that small distance, her mouth finding his, arms circling his neck, fists bunched in his hair, holding on as if to a life preserver.

Their tongues twined and danced, hot licks, desperate frenzied kisses, devouring one another, feeding on each other's passion. He kissed her as though his very life, his very survival depended on it. He kissed her as if he could never get enough of her or the taste of her.

He shifted again, throwing the cover from the bed onto the floor, his mouth never leaving hers, caging her with his body. She felt his heavy erection, thick and hard, pressed tight against her thigh, and another needy moan escaped.

Her head fell back as his mouth moved across her chin and down her throat, teeth taking small nips as if he wanted to take a bite out of her, his tongue easing each sting. His lips went to the neckline of her thin tee, and he frowned, lifting his head for a minute to look down at the cloth covering her heaving breasts. He simply caught at it with one hand and jerked hard, ripping the material from her body and tossing it aside. Her whole body clenched, her temperature shooting up at his display of impatience.

"Mine," he growled and lowered his head to feast on the swollen, aching mounds.

The harsh sound of his voice sent a ripple of fire shooting through her veins, nearly sending her over the edge, her body pulsing with desire, the muscles of her silken sheath clenching hard. His mouth was fiery hot, closing over her nipple, suckling strongly. Joley shivered as sensations poured through her.

She was terrified he had read her mind and would take her down a seductive path from which she could never return, yet she couldn't stop, couldn't find the will to resist his dark seduction. His body was hard and hot, spreading fire through her, sending electrical currents sizzling through her veins. His mouth was rough, sensuous; his lips pulled at her breast, sending lightning to her thighs and melting her inner flesh. His hands were even rougher than his mouth, teasing and pulling at her nipples, cupping the full mounds possessively. His teeth scraped and taunted, his tongue stroking each nipple with quick hot flicks that drove the breath from her body.