Wilde Thing (19 page)

He chuckled and grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers intimately as they walked toward one of Chicago’s largest landmarks and tourist attractions. “No coercing about it, sweetheart. You got onto the back of my bike willingly.”

She couldn’t argue with that—not that she wanted to. “That was fun,” she admitted.

“What, feeling me up?”

She laughed, feeling more lighthearted and carefree than she had in the past three years. “That, and riding on your bike.”

He gave her hand an affectionate squeeze. “I had a feeling you’d like it.”

She tipped her head, regarding him speculatively. “Have you ever taken another woman on your motorcycle?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.

He didn’t seem to mind her personal inquiry, though there was an intensity in his eyes that belied his casual demeanor. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever asked.”

His reply made her feel too giddy. “Lucky me,” she said, uncaring how possessive she sounded.

He dropped a spontaneous kiss on her lips, which left her aching for a deeper, longer embrace. “More like lucky
me,”
he murmured.

They ordered dinner at a casual seafood restaurant overlooking the harbor and shared a platter of fried
clams, sauteed shrimp, steamed mussels, and crab legs. Messy finger foods that both of them fed to each other.

Liz took a drink of the frothy piña colada she’d ordered, and glanced at the man sitting next to her. “Did you get my voice mail message today?”

“Yeah, I did.” He dipped a fried clam in cocktail sauce and brought it up to her mouth to eat, then licked the excess condiment from his own fingers. “I was out doing some surveillance work on a case and figured we could talk about things tonight, in person. What did Antonio have to say?”

“The message was brief but to the point, and exactly what we’ve been hoping for.” She swirled the last shrimp in garlic-butter sauce and lifted it to his lips. He curled his tongue around the morsel of meat, slow and sensual, and her stomach fluttered with awareness. “I have an appointment to meet with Antonio tomorrow morning at eleven. He said he wanted to talk to me about an advancement opportunity within the company.”

Steve wiped his mouth on a napkin, and since they’d pretty much cleared their platter, he motioned their waitress back to the table. “Which I’m sure translates to offering you a position as a party girl.”

She waited while the young woman cleared their dishes, and Steve took the liberty of ordering a dessert for them to share—a slice of praline cheesecake drizzled with extra caramel sauce.

Once the waitress had moved on to fill their dessert order, she said, “I won’t accept the offer if Antonio suggests I take any client other than you to The Ultimate Fantasy party.”

A muscle in his jaw flexed, and his expression turned adamant. “You can bet I won’t let you go to one of those parties by yourself, or without me on your arm. And there’s no way in hell I’d allow another man to think you’re his for the night.”

The rough, territorial growl in his voice thrilled her. “What if we get to the party and don’t get the information we need to track the guy Valerie was seeing?”

“There aren’t any guarantees either way, so let’s not jump ahead of things, okay?” He brushed his fingers gently along her cheek in a caring caress. “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

Once again she entrusted herself to him. “All right.”

Their cheesecake was delivered with two forks, but Steve insisted on feeding her bites in between his. The dessert was smooth and delicious, the caramel just enough to tempt her palate and remind her of their erotic encounter a few nights ago.

He touched another creamy bite to her lips, coaxing her to open up and accept, which she did. “Are you trying to fatten me up?”

“Not at all,” he drawled, and licked away a drop of caramel from the corner of his mouth. “I just want to make sure you’ve got plenty of energy for later.”

“Later?” She lifted a brow, undeniably curious. “What have you got planned for tonight, Mr. Wilde?”

His dark, compelling gaze riveted her. “It’s a surprise,
wench.”

Desire began a slow burn inside her, and a hopeful grin spread across her face. “You’re going to be my pirate?”

“Aye,” he said in a decent imitation of a wicked, lascivious buccaneer. “You betcha, I am.”

Oh, yes.
She licked her lips, tasting caramel and praline and wishing it were Steve instead. “What are you waiting for? Take me home and ravish me.”

Liz was learning to expect the unexpected when it came to Steve, which was part of what made him so breathtakingly appealing, so utterly irresistible. He didn’t take her back to The Daily Grind for her to get her car,
nor did he head toward her apartment. Instead, he drove them to a suburb just outside the city, where they wended their way though a residential area with large, well-kept homes that spoke of middle-class comfort.

No matter where Steve took her, Liz knew how the night was going to end—with a deliciously forbidden fantasy fulfilled, and her completely sated. The man didn’t do anything halfway, including giving as much sexual pleasure as he received.

The vibrating rumble of the motorcycle’s engine between her thighs electrified her, building her anticipation for what was to come. Finally, the bike slowed and Steve turned into the driveway of a two-story structure. The metal garage door rolled up, and he pulled into a spot right next to his SUV and cut the motor.

In one smooth, fluid motion he moved off the bike, then held out his hand to help her do the same, though her legs weren’t quite as steady as his. Their helmets came off, along with the leather jacket she wore, which he tossed across the seat of the Harley.

She rubbed her bare arms, feeling chilled straight through her blouse without his jacket, but knew he’d be warming her up again soon enough.

“Where are we?” she asked as she followed him to a door that led inside the house. Stupid question, but for some reason she needed him to confirm their destination.

He punched a quick code into the keypad on the wall, disengaging an alarm before he unlocked the door. “My place.”

Yes, she was surprised, but didn’t ask why he’d chosen to bring her to his home tonight. She refused to read anything deeper into the switch from her apartment to his bachelor pad, other than a change of scenery.

He opened the door, and she glanced from the dark, shadowed interior of his house to his equally dark, shadowed face. She stared up into his hot, hungry eyes
and shivered, but not from the cold this time. With the dim light in the garage haloing his head, he looked like a fallen angel, a dangerous outlaw, and most definitely a plundering, pillaging pirate.

He inclined his head and murmured, “You have thirty seconds to hide from me, wench, before I come after you. And once I capture you, you’re mine, to do with as I please, in any way I desire. Do you understand?”

She nodded jerkily, the intensity of her growing excitement making her feel light-headed, and damp between her thighs. She was his prisoner, his captive, and he’d just established himself as her master. She might have begun the provocative game on the phone last night, but he would finish it now and stake a primitive claim on her. Without a doubt, she knew tonight’s fantasy would be like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

“One …” he began, counting down the seconds he’d given her as a head start. “Two …”

Adrenaline pumped through her, heating her blood and making her heart beat wildly in her chest. She bolted into the house, and it was like plunging into an unknown maze of obscure doorways and furniture, shadowy corridors, and darkened rooms. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the dimness. Steve had the benefit of knowing the layout of the house, but she wasn’t at all daunted by her disadvantage, because she eventually wanted to be seized and ravished. But first she intended to enjoy the very adult game of hide-and-seek, and that meant evading her master’s capture.

At his count of twenty, she turned to the left and found herself in what appeared to be a living room with suede couches and a big-screen TV. She had no idea where to go from there, and her pulse rioted within her as he neared the thirty-second mark; then the house filled with an ominous silence.

Experiencing a burst of animated panic, she turned
down a hallway and saw Steve’s silhouette approaching from the other end. Startled, she gasped and sprinted in the opposite direction, running into the kitchen with a large, wooden butcher block dominating the middle of the room. She spun around just as Steve entered, giving her no choice but to rush to the far end of the kitchen and use the big block of wood as a barrier between them.

He peeled off his turtleneck and tossed the garment onto a nearby table. Slowly he circled around one side of the slab of wood and toward her. The slice of moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the breadth of his chest and made his eyes gleam like quicksilver. “Take off your blouse, or I’ll rip it off when I catch you.”

“If you
catch me,” she taunted bravely.

He continued to stalk her, a predatory smile curving his full lips. “Don’t doubt that I will, so consider yourself forewarned.”

With him having cleared one side of the counter, she dashed out of the room and down another hallway. Seemingly out of nowhere, he appeared in front of her, from another doorway. She yelped and turned to run back into the kitchen. Just as she entered, he caught her around the waist and pulled her backside hard against his chest.

His parted lips grazed the side of her neck. “You can run, but you can’t hide,” he breathed into her ear.

She shuddered, a delightful, eager sensation. Playing the stubborn, rebellious captive, she tugged at the arm banded around her middle, and struggled to find a way out of his grasp, but she was no match for his superior strength, and they both knew it. He maneuvered her up against the butcher block, trapping her hips between the edge of the solid countertop and himself, behind her. Her bottom was tucked tightly against his groin,
the thick erection confined behind denim searing her even through her own jeans.

With the pressure of his hips keeping her immobile, he raised his hands to the first button on her blouse and dipped his fingers into her cleavage. He stroked over the mounds of her breasts, and her nipples hardened into aching points. True to his word, he tugged on the fabric, hard, and sent the first button skittering across the kitchen. Another fierce yank of material, and her top split wide open with a resounding rip. She sucked in a stunned breath, and moaned when he roughly pushed the cups of her bra down and his big hands closed over her breasts. He squeezed and kneaded her flesh and delicately pinched her nipples between his fingers.

She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. As his prisoner, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He pulled off the shredded fabric that was now her blouse and dropped it to the floor. Seconds later, her bra followed. He turned her in his arms, keeping her spine locked against the counter, and clamped his hot, wet mouth over one rigid nipple and sucked while his other hand continued to fondle her other breast.

Swallowing a whimper, she closed her eyes and gripped the edge of the wooden block at her sides. His velvet-soft tongue licked and swirled, and his teeth nibbled, sending waves of heat rolling through her. Long, questing fingers grazed her belly, and he took a step back to give him more room to release the snap on her jeans.

Refusing to give in to him so easily, she made a quick decision and darted to the side, managing to evade his grasp since he hadn’t expected her to bolt. She hightailed it down the dark hallway and took the stairs double-time to the second level of the house. She instinctively headed left and slipped through the second doorway on the right. A bathroom, she realized,
that adjoined another room, from what she could tell in the darkness.

She heard the creak of a stair, knew he was coming to find her, and moved behind the bathroom door. She flattened her back against the wall, excruciatingly aroused, dizzy with desire and the thrill of the forbidden.

The man was incredibly light-footed; the only thing giving away his presence was his shadow as he moved past the bathroom, then stopped. She held her breath when he pushed the door open wide and stepped inside but didn’t switch on the light. The cool wooden door touched her bare nipples, and the anticipation of getting caught made her stomach flutter and her mind spin. God, she hoped she didn’t pass out from lack of oxygen. A few seconds later he backed out and continued down the hallway to the next room, and she gulped air back into her lungs.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” he cajoled, his voice low and mesmerizingly sensual as he hunted for her.

With him in another section of the upper level, she silently moved into the adjoining bedroom, which turned out to be a home gym. Making her way to the threshold that led back out into the hallway, she waited there, listening for any sounds or movement from Steve. Unfortunately, all she could hear was the thudding of her heart in her chest and the roar of blood in her own ears.

Taking a chance, she rushed out of the room, made a sharp left down the corridor, and ran headlong into a solid wall of virile male muscle. Steve grabbed her upper arms, steadying her. Before she could regain her equilibrium, he pinned her up against the wall. His hands framed the sides of her face, holding her still as his mouth took hers, open and hot. His silky tongue thrust deep and tangled with hers, and he crushed his hair-roughened
chest to her breasts, the heat of his flesh branding her. Widening his stance so that his knees bracketed hers, he rolled his hips, grinding his rock-hard sex against the notch between her thighs.

She moaned into his mouth and flattened her hands on the wall behind her, trying to remember that she was his hostage and he was the one in control. That this fantasy was all about her resisting, and Steve forcing her to submit. It was the resisting part she was having a difficult time with.

This time when he reached between them and wrenched open the button on her jeans, she let him. His hands pushed into the waistband of her pants and underwear, slid over her hips and around to her buttocks. Ruthlessly he shoved the material down her legs and left it bunched around her knees, effectively restraining her.