Twice as Hot (23 page)

“Look,
Rome. I love you. I do. And I want you.” God, did I want him. Maybe it was my
hunger making me admit these things, but I couldn’t hold the words back. “The
thing is, I won’t let myself have you.” Not now. Not after he’d rejected me.
Again.

His
gaze jerked up and clashed with mine, confusion darkening those gorgeous
irises. “Why not?”

Was
he…pouting? Surely not. “You should be totally on board with my refusal. I
thought we’d already decided to keep things platonic. That’s what you told
John, isn’t it?”

His
eyelids slit dangerously. “I only promised him you wouldn’t catch on fire
again.
Not
that I wouldn’t kiss you again.”

Hope,
such silly hope. “I don’t believe you. And you can’t just change your mind like
that. I’m not a piece of chocolate—” hmm, chocolate “—you can drool over one
moment, then forget about the next, and then think about eating again later.”
Okay, perhaps that wasn’t the best analogy. Rome, eating, teeth and tongue
moving, working…I shivered. “I know what it feels like to be made love to by a
man who loves me, and I won’t settle for anything less. Now, you need to
leave.”

The
very teeth I was imagining all over my body suddenly flashed in a show of aggression.
“I can’t stay away. That’s the problem. What the hell have you done to me?”

Anger
gave me strength. I fisted the fabric of his shirt, bones so taut they could
have snapped. “What are you implying?”

“Does
your saliva have an addictive agent in it? Is that another of your powers?”

So.
He thought I’d somehow tricked him into desiring me, that he couldn’t possibly
want me because he had loved me, because we’d had something special.
Had,
I thought. Key word.

My
love life was going up in flames around me, and there was nothing I could do
but watch it burn.

“Maybe
it does,” I said sadly. Then, with more force, “Maybe, when I find Memory Man,
I’ll kiss the hell out of him. Maybe
he’ll
ask me to marry him and
actually go through with it.” Though I’d meant to sound flippant there at the
end, my hurt rang through loud and clear.

The
more I spoke, the more Rome’s pupils narrowed until there was nothing left but
a thin black line. He cupped my chin, forcing my face to his. “When I was a
boy, I saved my money for months because I wanted to buy a pet lizard. Have I
told you this before?”

“No,
but what does that have to do with anything?” I asked, even though I was
desperate to hear the story. I loved him, but I didn’t know much about his
childhood.

“Just
listen. Like I said, I saved for months. Finally, I’d saved enough. I went to
the pet store, bought everything I needed for its care and took little Bone
Crusher home.”

“You
named him
Bone Crusher?
”

He
acted as if I hadn’t spoken. “I owned him for three weeks before my mom noticed
him. By that time, I loved him, couldn’t imagine my life without him.”

I
swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Bone Crusher, though?”

“My
mom saw him and freaked. She made me let him go out back, held me against her
so I couldn’t run after him. I cried for days.”

“I—I—”
Wanted to hug him. The little boy he’d been, the man he’d become. Both were
precious to me. I coughed to cover my softening. “What does Bone Crusher have
to do with me?”

Once
more, Rome got in my face. He was fury and he was hurt; he was longing and he
was determination. He was…everything. “I’ve regretted that I didn’t fight for
him ever since.”

“I
don’t understand.” Was afraid to hope.

His
jaw hardened, so firm and stubborn my heart swelled. “I’m going to kiss you,
Belle. And I’m going to touch you.”

I
lost my breath. Or rather, it caught in my throat, hanging there, suspended.
“We’re not supposed to do this,” I whispered, because I couldn’t say no. But
maybe I could talk us out of this.

“So?”

“So.”
I licked my lips. “I’m not going to let myself have you until your memory
returns.” If I could find the strength to continue to resist him. Right now,
that seemed more impossible than Desert Gal deciding to turn herself in.

His
gaze had followed the movement of my tongue. “I remember our last kiss.” The
hoarse statement dripped with desire.

Oh,
God. Already my resistance was crumbling. “I could burn you.” Again. Could burn
this house.

“Could?”
He chuckled without humor. “You already have.”

Fight
his appeal.
“It’s dangerous.” A reminder for me, for him.

“Doesn’t
have to be. John told me I caged your abilities once, kept us both safe from
them.”

“Key
word
once.
”

“I
want to try again. And I will.” He didn’t give me time to utter another
protest. He simply smothered my lips with his own, his tongue thrusting deep
and hard and hot.

My
hands were in his hair before I could stop them, fisting, nails digging into
his scalp just as his were in mine. Our tongues took and gave and fought, but I
finally allowed him to conquer. His lips were soft, his body a hard press.

One
of his hands kneaded my breast through the towel, and the nipple pearled to a
sharp little point. He moaned into my mouth. I swallowed the sound, the flavor
adding a new level of passion.

As
I arched into him—
yes, God yes, so good
—his erection rubbing against
me, common sense tried to rear its ugly head.
Stay in control. Don’t give
him everything. Hold a part of yourself back.

But
why? my heart cried.

Without
his memory, he’ll hurt you once the loving is over. And, as you tried to remind
him, you could kill him with your fire. He might not be able to cage your
abilities like he used to, even though he thinks he can.

True,
so true. I’d have to be careful, stay in command. Enjoy him, yes. For a little
while. Because I simply could not resist him anymore. And I needed to forget,
if only for a bit, the bleak abyss my life had become.

But
as common sense demanded, I’d have to hold a part of myself back. That was the
only safe way I could allow myself this kiss. And I had to have this kiss, for
he was devouring me as if he needed me to survive. He was here, in my arms,
craving more of me. He was the man I loved, the man I would—hopefully—marry.

“I
want to touch you,” he said, releasing my hair and tugging at my towel.

“No.
Too much,” I replied between nips and licks.

“Want
to touch you. Want you to touch me.”

I
was working his shirt over his head before he’d finished the sentence. I tossed
the material to the floor in a forgotten heap. Then I flattened my palms
against his chest and gasped. He was hot, both hard and soft, as though fire
flowed in his veins, as though silk covered stone.

“You’re
so beautiful.” I’d missed this contact with him. This connection.

“Not
as beautiful as you.” He licked his way down my throat, then licked his way
back up. “Touch me more, but kiss me, too. Your mouth is killing me, and I want
to die.”

“Like
this?” I kissed a path down his neck just as he’d done mine, my nails lightly
scraping at his back. All the while, fire flowed through
my
veins. I
could feel the first tendrils waking up, sparking to life. I tamped them down,
using every ounce of strength I possessed.

“You
were made for me, weren’t you? My sweetest temptation.” His fingers traced the
bottom of my towel, slowing drawing it up…up…revealing inch after inch of
thigh. When he reached the curve of my butt, he stopped and played, massaging.
“Perfection.”

I
bit the cord at the base of his throat, just the way I knew he liked, and he
hissed in a breath. “Careful, Rome darling, or you’ll fall in love with me
again.”

For
a moment, he didn’t reply, and the bedroom echoed with the sound of our
panting. “I’ll love you in and out of that catsuit. I know that.” So Sherridan
was right about the catsuit after all, both the wearing of and the peeling off.
Score! I didn’t have time to gloat about—uh, dwell on it, though, because he
arched his hips, rubbing his erection between my legs.

I
cried out at the pleasure, had to fortify my grip on my inner fire. “What about
the dress? Did you love me in that?”

He
chuckled softly, darkly. “In that dress you almost gave me heart failure. Then,
in nothing but the foam, you were like a fantasy come to life.
Then,
in
that halter and miniskirt, you had me drooling. Now, in the towel, you’re a
dream come true.”

“Don’t—don’t
talk like that.” Already the fire inside me churned to be released. Any more of
his sweet talk, and I’d lose my grip on it.

“How’re
you doing?” he asked, as if sensing my struggle.

“Burning,”
I said truthfully, and then licked one of his nipples. I just couldn’t help
myself. A shiver stole through me and flowed into him. “But I’m okay. Got it
under control as long as we keep things physical. No emotions.”

The
muscles in his stomach quivered and he tangled one hand in my wet hair, pulling
tight. The other remained on my ass, squeezing. “Give me the heat, baby.”

I
froze in shock, in joy.
Baby.
He’d just called me baby. That’s what he’d
called me BML—before memory loss. Part of me had thought never to hear him
speak the endearment again. Hearing it now, while I was in his arms…there was
no stopping my surge of emotion, which was like adding kindling to the fire
inside me.

“What?”
he asked, grip loosening on my hair but not my ass.

“N-nothing.”
Mind blank, Belle. Mind blank. Only desire is welcome right now.
I kissed
and nipped my way to his other nipple and gave it the same treatment. He was
hard against me, hard and thick and long. I knew just how magnificent it would
feel to ease him inside me, pushing deep, all the way to the hilt. He would
stretch me, and I would love it. We’d both become mindless, lost, and the
pleasure would be extraordinary. We’d explode like rockets.

But
what would happen afterward? I found myself wondering again. So much for a
blank mind.

Again,
as if he sensed my internal struggle, he rubbed against me, once, twice, and I
moaned, once more losing myself. The pleasure was just too damn good.

Higher
and higher my fire raged. Tighter and tighter I gripped it, holding it captive.
But for how much longer? “I—I need a moment,” I panted. I jerked my hips
backward, out of touching range. Several deep, shuddering breaths later and I
still wasn’t in as much control as I would have liked.

Rome
traced a fingertip along the curve of my cheek. “What’s wrong, baby?”

Baby
again. “Just have to catch my breath.”

“Yeah.
Right. Give me your heat,” he commanded again.

“No.”

When
his fingers began inching down my throat to the edge of the towel, tracing as
if he meant to push it away and caress my nipples skin to skin, perhaps bending
down and kissing my belly before laving at the desire between my legs, the fire
inside me grew, spread, soon demanding release.

I
needed to push him away. I settled for dropping my hands to my sides. I
straightened, but couldn’t look him in the eyes. Not yet. Those eyes always enslaved
me. “We—we have to stop. For now.”

“We
just got started,” he said, but his fingers ceased their movement.

God,
do I know it,
I thought, already mourning what could have been. There was so much more we
could do, so much more I yearned to do. “I’m sorry.”

He
sighed. “Either you changed your mind about wanting me, which I doubt is the
case since I can smell the sweetness of your arousal, or you’re afraid to give
me your fire.”

My
legs were trembling so much I expected to topple at any moment, and this time
the trembling came from something besides hunger, something besides anger. He
was right, it came from fear. “Doesn’t matter which supposition is correct.
Tell me you remember something about our life together.” Something, anything.
Only then could I trust him to properly filter me.

Silence.

I
cut off the surge of hurt before it could bombard me. “
That’s
why we’re
stopping. You don’t remember me, and until you do, you get nothing from me.
Like I said, I won’t let you screw me as if I’m a stranger. I want your love or
nothing at all.” I’d have to remember that myself, as easily and as quickly as
I gave in to him.

“Fair
enough,” Rome said evenly. He held up his hands, palms out, and stepped
backward, no longer crowding me.

I
sagged against the wall to keep myself in a standing position, despising the
loss of contact.
Stupid girl,
my hormones cried.

“But
I hope you understand that I do plan to change your mind,” he added, then
strolled out of my bedroom and out of the house, the door clicking shut behind
him.