Banshee Seduction (Montgomery's Sin Book 1) (5 page)

He caressed his thumbs on the insides of her palms to soothe her and pondered how long it would take to strip the dress off her. After all, the bathroom was empty. He chuckled as she became even more flustered, and he wondered if she could read his thoughts. She certainly hadn’t made any effort to escape him, and there was no sign of her not enjoying his touch.

“You don’t know your own name?”

“No.” Her breath whispered, and her chest heaved. “I don’t.”

Her hands went limp in his, and she stared deep into his eyes, almost hypnotizing him. Amused at the reciprocal effect he appeared to have on her, he stepped in closer and dipped down to whisper in her ear, the temptation to nibble it almost irresistible. “Well, neither do I, sweetheart. What would you suggest I call you?”

He felt rather than heard her indrawn breath against the background of thundering music. He took advantage and deliberately skimmed his lips against the silken curve of her cheek, taking pleasure in the rise of heat in his chest and the instant arousal that shot through him.

The light scent of her perfume filled his nostrils and tickled his senses. The thrum of his pulse increased to match the rhythm of the music and sent his blood chasing through his veins.

“Ginny Golding. You can call me Ginny.” She puffed and made him smile. The woman was just so goddamned cute and attractive.

“Ginny. Is that your name?” He touched the back of his fingers against her jawline and stroked them upward to her ear, his own dark, tanned skin a wild contrast to the alabaster of hers. Her tantalizing shudder emboldened him to skim his fingers through the fine strands of her hair and cup the back of her neck.

“I think so.”

A deep chuckle rumbled at her confusion, and the desire to kiss her, feel her full lips against his, and taste her response rose in him. He tightened his hold on her, drawing her in.

“Yeah. Me too. You look like a Ginny.” He skimmed his lips over her temple as she held still. A gentle tremble coursed through her body, making him take it slow.

“I feel like a Ginny.”

The beast rumbled in his belly. He controlled it and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, and then pulled back to stare into her entrancing eyes. Desperate desire overrode his patience. “So do I. Let’s get out of here.”

He reached for her hand and tugged her toward the door, but she pulled back, the fog in her eyes lifting. “Oh, I don’t know whether I should. I need to tell Roni.”

“Roni. Right.”

Who the hell was the other woman? Her keeper? Roni might be overprotective, but she hadn’t followed them into the bathroom, so chances were she wouldn’t object when he swept her friend out of the club.

He spun on his heel, engulfing one of Ginny’s delicate hands in his own, and strode from the bathroom with all-out purpose straight to Roni, who stood once again by the bar—no Daniel in sight.

Desperate to get Ginny alone and preferably naked, Matt hauled her up in front of her red-haired friend. “I’m taking Ginny home.”

Roni blinked as though surprised to see them; she tipped her head to one side and gave a vacant smile. “Okay.”

He thought he might’ve had more trouble with her, but the tall vampire seemed almost mellow, and although he had questions about Daniel’s reaction, now was not the time. He had his own libido to think about.

He grinned. He was going to take advantage of everyone’s compliance. “Right. See you.”

“Bye.” The tall model wiggled her fingers at them.

He wrapped his arm around Ginny so he didn’t lose her in the crowd, rested his hand on the deep indent of her waist, and almost carried her out of the club. He wanted her. Right now. He was used to getting what he wanted when he wanted it. Ginny certainly didn’t seem to be putting up any kind of protest. On the contrary, her short legs did a great job of keeping up, and her pretty face, although wreathed with confusion by his headlong rush out of the place, never portrayed any sign of worry.

His chest tightened in anticipation. He could have her in his car. He just had to get to it. As he saw the crowds of people outside the club, he realized it would be impossible to wade his way through them without getting recognized, but he ducked his head and pushed Ginny as quickly as he could around the corner. He hustled her into the dark alleyway, away from the lights and the bustle of even more people trying to get into Montgomery’s Sin. There was a shortcut from the alley where they could get onto the main highway and grab a taxi back to his place.

He slipped his hand inside his pocket and realized he didn’t have his car keys anyway; they’d come in Daniel’s vehicle. It made no difference to him.

He slowed, took in a deep lungful of fresh air, and wondered why the hell he had ever agreed to go in there in the first place. One glance at Ginny and he smiled, It must have been fate.

Something about her made him want to eat her up, and he had to control the desire to wipe the drool from his mouth. The pale light that surrounded her while they were in the nightclub had vaporized. It must’ve purely been the modern lighting bouncing off her white hair and dress, giving the impression of a wraithlike halo shimmering around her.

Her perfectly rounded ass wiggled against his guiding hand as she broke into a ragged trot in a desperate attempt to keep up with him while he directed her along the dark alley.

He took her hand again to steady her as she stumbled. Compelled to stop, he gave a gentle tug to turn her to face him and realized her pale skin shimmered with ethereal radiance once more. Something about her face made him want to touch her constantly. Desire raged through his body, and he wondered if anyone would notice if he took her right there, up against the wall. Tacky, but he was desperate. He glanced up and down the alley before turning his attention back to her. She seemed to be waiting for him to speak. The wild heat in his chest had spread to his lower regions and left him with barely enough blood in his brain for him to think. Her wide eyes were full of innocence, but her dress screamed, Strip me—I’m a slut.

Full of contradictions, she fascinated him.

She held still while he skimmed his fingers over her satin flesh, curved his hand around the side of her neck, and drew her in with the intention of treating himself to a proper kiss, followed by mind-blowing sex. He lowered his head to whisper in her ear, “You wanna pretend to do something else, or should we just hit the sheets?”

He guessed it might have been the wrong approach as Ginny wrenched away from him and took a step back to stare at him. Her pale blue eyes turned icy. Her mouth opened and closed in abject shock.

Subtlety had never been an issue for him. Being well known, women threw themselves at him with tiresome regularity. They came into the team locker room and whipped their T-shirts off to expose their braless breasts, and he’d been quite happy to take them up on their offers. Problem was, he’d never had to chase a woman—ever. It was the privilege that came with fame and fortune, especially in the world of sport.

He skimmed his eyes over Ginny’s shocked face. A curl of regret clenched his stomach as he realized his impatience may well have cost him dearly.

He had no idea how to romance a reluctant woman—or any woman at all. He’d never so much as had to take a female to dinner to get her into bed.

It was a tough life, but someone had to live it.

His relationship with Emma had been driven by her, as had the break-up. The woman had powered into his life, ordered him about, made the first moves, and arranged their wedding. Then left him high and dry, almost at the altar. A powerful woman with single-minded drive.

He gave Ginny a moment and studied her as he waited for her to make her decision. Easy choice: sex—yes or no? She raised her hand, and for a moment, although he never flinched, he had the distinct impression she was about to strike him. Instead, she tucked her hair behind her shell-like ear and gave him a small shrug and a tight smile. His chest gave an uncomfortable contraction as his invitation for a quick tumble had obviously been seen as an insult. Confused, he stared into her cool eyes. It had somehow upset her.

She raised a delicate hand to sweep her hair back from her face again, and with her next words, she confirmed his suspicion that he’d offended her. “I’m sorry. I think you have the wrong girl.”

The raging beast inside him protested as she extracted herself from his grip, and his pulse thrummed with panic that he was about to lose her.

In an attempt to make amends, he reached out to take her hand in his, but she slipped hers behind her back and made his heart crash into his feet.

“No, I don’t. Not the wrong girl at all.” He fumbled around, desperate to find the right words. “Just maybe the wrong approach.” He stepped forward and raised his hand to touch her face again in the hope he still stood a chance, but she jerked back once more. He shrugged, trying to give the impression he wasn’t too bothered, even though blood pumped through his heart like he was about to take on the Cowboys’ fullback in the last play of the game.

“Well, then, perhaps another time.” He gave a casual shrug, almost biting his tongue for its carelessness while she backed away. Women always flung themselves at him if they thought he was losing interest, but she seemed different.

A sad reluctance flitted across her face, causing an unfamiliar sensation of fear to press hard against his chest.

“Ginny.” Voice hoarse, he cringed at the blatant plea in that one word.

She stopped. His heart knocked hard and resolute against his rib cage, and the breath he’d been holding huffed out. Stupid of him to consider she would leave. It was probably all a ploy to keep him interested. The cynic inside wondered what she wanted from him. They always wanted something. Maybe she just wanted more—she was playing the same game as he was. Well, she didn’t need to play games. He couldn’t be any more interested. He could barely walk with the heat of desire raging through him.

He took another step forward, and she held out a hand in a firm stop sign. Confused, he paused and stared at her pretty skin as it flushed a bright pink in the dim light of the alley for no apparent reason. Perhaps he’d made a mistake. He made one more attempt. “I thought…”

“No. You obviously never thought at all.” He might have misconstrued the situation, but there was no mistaking her now. The woman in white wasn’t quite the pushover he’d believed. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.” She fluttered her hands to indicate her dress. “This. This isn’t me. I apologize if my appearance misled you into believing I’m something I’m not.”

She confused him. He thought she’d been as keen as he, but it was pretty evident the woman was just a tease. What kind of satisfaction she got out of tempting a celebrity just to turn him down flat, he had no idea.

Still as a statue, she seemed to wait for some kind of reaction. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. She raised her chin and tilted her head in inquiry.

Irritation and frustration made his voice harsh. “Well, are you leaving, or are you just going to stand there all night?”

Her eyebrows flicked up, and he rubbed his hands on the sides of his scruffy jeans, unsure why she should make him feel embarrassed by his attitude.

He tempered his voice and tried again. “Because I can’t leave until you do. I have to make sure you get a cab or something so you’re not on your own.” He’d never leave a woman in danger, and the dark alley was clearly dangerous to a lone woman.

She snorted as though her safety was the last thing on her mind, but she still never made a move. What the hell was going on?

“Well?”

She crossed her arms over her heaving breast and gave him a pained look. “I can’t move.”

He’d heard of his good looks freezing a woman to the spot, but it was ridiculous under the circumstances. She’d already made it pretty clear she wanted nothing further to do with him. He mirrored her stance by folding his arms across his chest and waited. God, he hated women’s games. If she wanted attitude, he could give her attitude. He slipped his hip forward in a direct imitation of her. “Because?”

She dipped her head, and he followed the direction of her gaze down to where one of her feet was on solid asphalt, her knee attractively bent, shooting her hip forward. Doubt tickled his gut. In an automatic reaction, he moved his hands to his hips. On closer inspection, her other foot seemed to be on something less stable. He bent at the waist to get a better view in the dim light and almost laughed.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Snared.”

Her kick-ass heel was wedged firmly into a drain cover. He glanced back at her, but she merely gave him a haughty look, perfect eyebrows raised almost to her hairline. He’d bet his bottom dollar she couldn’t bend in her dress without crushing her insides.

After the way she’d reacted, he could turn and walk away without a backward glance. He rubbed his fingers across his lips and gave her another sly look. Like hell he could walk away. Apart from the fact that he wasn’t the kind of man to leave a damsel in distress, the woman had a powerful magnetic pull, and she didn’t seem to be letting him go.

With a sigh, he hunkered down in front of her and sucked in his breath as he encircled her slim ankle with his fingers, the heat of her skin almost setting him on fire. His pulse stumbled over itself. Ready just to get out of there before he made a bigger fool of himself by bending lower and giving in to the temptation to lick the length of her gorgeous legs, he gripped her ankle and gave a good, firm yank.

Her shrill squeak of surprise almost made his ears bleed as she toppled forward and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself. Her small hands sent shock waves through his system as they slapped on top of his back and gripped onto his T-shirt for dear life. Her panicked yelps made him smile.

He peered down at the ground. Nothing. The heel was stuck fast.

The heat of her hands singed his shoulders. He sucked in a deep breath. His face was on a level with her crotch. He didn’t dare turn his head; otherwise he was not going to be able to resist the temptation of nuzzling his face into her. And getting it slapped for his efforts.