BorntobeWild (2 page)

“Riku, you shouldn’t…” Her voice faded to nothing when she
met his gaze. He hadn’t hidden anything. A spark of desire had stirred in him
with the first sight of her and now it blazed to life. He reached for her. She
came to him, filled his arms with delicious inevitability.

He brought his mouth to hers with the avidity of a starving
man presented with a ripe peach. Her taste reminded him of everything he’d
missed on this world tour—great coffee, sass and most of all Cyn. Enjoying her
for the first time in—fuck, six years—reminded Riku of why he’d left. She
tasted him back just as avidly, licking into his mouth, pushing her hands under
his T-shirt to touch skin. Following suit, Riku slid his palms across her
smooth back, hesitating at her bra strap and deciding to leave it in place.
Tantalizing himself.

When they broke the kiss both were breathing heavily. “Cyn—”

She touched his lips with one finger. “Don’t talk. Things go
screwy when we talk too much. Do me, Riku. Fuck me.”

He caught his breath on a choked gasp. He defied anybody to
ignore that. Although it wasn’t the first time a woman had said that to him, Cyn
had never said it before. Cyn wasn’t a groupie—not that he had anything against
groupies, he had some good friends in the community but they didn’t compare
with this woman. Not for him. But he wasn’t about to fuck this up, so he
smiled, said, “My pleasure,” and set about obeying her wishes.

He had to get her top off to touch and see her, only a small
impediment. Then, unable to wait a minute more, her bra, a sensible cotton one,
warmed by her skin. He dropped it on the smaller table in favor of caressing
her lovely, full breasts. She had large nipples, inviting and so soft he couldn’t
dream of better. Lavishing kisses on her throat, enjoying the anticipation, he
worked his way to those beautiful rose-pink tips and sucked them into his mouth
one at a time.

He could have feasted on them for hours but someone might
come in at any moment and he wanted to get inside her before then. He’d have
locked the door but she didn’t appear concerned. That suited him fine. He didn’t
care who saw. They could stand in the open doorway and yell encouragement for
all he cared. As long as they didn’t get in the way. Desperation to see her
naked, to feel her hot pussy clenched around him made caution leave the
building.

Frantic, he found the fastening for her flowing skirt and
stripped it away. He moaned. “Your legs—sexy as ever.”

She chuckled. “You don’t have to flatter me. You got me.”

“Flattery?” He shook his head. “You don’t need it.”

She fingered his hair then snatched her hand away. “Will it
come off?”

He’d forgotten the gold leaf. “I don’t give a shit. Just
touch me. Wherever you want.” He wanted her hands all over him. The memory had
kept him awake nights. He was afire for it. He sighed in relief when she
stroked his hair then speared her fingers through it to knead his scalp.

“Like nobody else,” she murmured. She couldn’t say any more
because he captured her mouth again, taking her in a kiss as lavish as he dared
at this stage without ripping everything off and getting to business without
finesse. And he needed her to come with him. He set all his hard-won skill to
exciting her. When she tugged at his T-shirt he let her take it off him instead
of tearing it impatiently over his head, let her flatten her palms on his
chest, smooth them across the tiny, hard nubs of his nipples. He shuddered and
moved closer, begging for the brush of her fingers without words. They needed none.

Her amused voice broke into his drive to satisfaction. “No
tats?”

“Not yet. I want to plan them properly. No half-assed ink.”
He’d planned a full work but the experience of his band mate Jace, who’d gone
through agony to get his admittedly gorgeous dragon, had convinced him to go
all-in or nothing. So far, not.

She traced her tongue around one nipple, leaving him frantic
to feel all of her against all of him. He held on to his reason by a thread and
decided to give as good as he got. Sex with Cyn was an erotic battleground with
fulfillment at the end of the road. At least the temporary finish before the
journey began again.

“So pretty,” he murmured, shifting his position so he could
find his pants and a condom. Before he got there she slapped a packet into his
hand. “And resourceful,” he said, completing his movement by relaxing back onto
the floor. Shit, he’d buy her a decent carpet. This bastard burned his backside
every time he shifted. Not that it would stop him.

He glanced around, grabbed a towel from a nearby chair and
shoved it underneath his ass. As she giggled he sheathed himself one-handed and
reached for her. Abruptly the giggling halted when he hooked a hand around her
waist and pulled her closer none too gently. The sight of her, the way she’d
teased him, he longed for her more than ever. Desperation seized him. “No more
waiting. I’ve waited long enough.”

He had, far too long. When the tip of his cock touched her
wet crease, he gave a small, involuntary sound, halfway between a grunt and a
sigh. He met her gaze, her eyes dark and intent as his must be. No laughing,
just mutual need. When he slid inside, his eyes rolled up but he stopped his
sigh of pleasure in favor of a kiss when she bent to seal their mouths
together.

This
was what was missing, just this. Being inside
her, the woman who—no, only the woman.
No, stop.
He’d made that mistake
before, his enthusiasm dragging him from adventure to adventure until he left
her behind.

Anywhere Cyn was felt like home. Especially this way, with
his cock seated deep inside her pussy, her wetness bathing him, soaking his
balls.

He plunged his cock and his tongue deep, letting sounds of
appreciation fill his throat and bliss invade him. He’d stay here forever, as
long as she did. Miss the concert tonight, everything. Nothing mattered more.

Even as the notion crossed his mind, automatically
contradictions rose to battle the feeling. Always, always he had something else
to do.

She finished the kiss, lifted her head. “Where are you,
Riku?”

He smiled. “With you, right here.”

“And a million other places. I won’t share, lover.” She
smiled back but the heat didn’t reach her eyes. “You know that. It’s me and me
alone, or it’s you and all your stuff.”

“No contest. It’s you.” When he tightened his ass muscles
and drove up, sure enough, the sensations returned. The soft, wet heat felt
like nothing else, like nobody else and her smile morphed back into passion.
Exactly where he wanted it.

They watched each other as they settled into a rhythm. All
he wanted was to watch her come apart and then let her see him do the same
thing. He didn’t like showing his lovers complete surrender but it had always
been different with Cyn.

After half a dozen thrusts, he gritted his teeth. Her
gentle, teasing voice floated over his head. “Oooh, do I see veneers?”

He laughed. “Fuck off, Cyn.” But her comment did the trick
and the edge went off a little. Her laughter urged him on to stop her and after
another push, she gasped, the sound cut off in a sudden rush of arousal.

She clutched him, gripped his shoulders and he relished the
bite of pain when her nails bit into his flesh. Grasping her hips, he forced
her down. “Take everything.”

Her breath caught in her throat and she sucked in air in
little, throaty inhales. Oh shit, the only woman he knew who did that. He
kissed her neck, licked the side of it, the sensitive part that made her sigh.
She didn’t disappoint him.

Their cramped position on the floor, barely fitting between
desk and wall, meant they had to move carefully or they’d jog the furniture and
someone might come. Not that he cared but he guessed she might. Store managers
weren’t supposed to spend their days fucking the customers. Even if they were
Riku Shiraishi.

Fuck, he was so conceited these days. So fucking stupid. All
that mattered was her and him—no, her. “Ah, Jesus, fuck, you’re killing me
here.”

With a sigh of surrender she worked him, responded to his
drives deep inside, plunged on him, slamming against his groin, stimulating his
balls, while his cock happily rooted inside her. He went beyond words, until
the precipice of his orgasm loomed in front of him.

Then he let go with a torrent of sound, wordless cries,
while he shoved her hips down hard. A primitive need to come deep inside her
seized his mind and body.

A rush of liquid heat flowed from his cock head, his spine,
numbing every other part of his body. He held on.

Cold air flooded between them when she lifted herself off
him. He heard the dull thump as he let his hands drop to the floor on either
side of him and watched his chest heave in sharp spasms as he slowly regained
his senses.

Cyn was already on her feet, dressing. He watched her cover
her gorgeous shape, wished she didn’t have to. “I’ll just lie here and watch
you.”

Her softened gaze caressed him and returned to his face. He
felt her vision as if it was a living touch. “Get up and I’ll make you another cup
of coffee.”

“If it’s as good as the first, I’m in.” With an effort he
sat up then discovered it was easier to stand. Grabbing his T-shirt, he dragged
it on. When he emerged he caught sight of a flash of gold from his hair as it
swung over his cheek. “Still there, then,” he said. “If I’d left gold leaf on
your floor would you have scraped it up and used it?”

She laughed. “Hoovered it up and thrown it away. I’m not
that desperate, although gold prices are outrageous.”

He tried not to appear ruffled but he was in more than
appearance. Cyn had completely and literally floored him and she was hopping
around this office like a woman trying to avoid something.

Aha.

The deep connection they shared had slotted back into place
with the effortless precision of cogs in a watch that someone had rewound after
a long break.

Sadly, she was probably right to try to avoid the deeper
link. Their trajectories lay in opposite directions, always had, and the sexual
connection they had didn’t cover the flaws their relationship also held. They
didn’t have the same ambitions. Still, why shouldn’t they have fun while he was
in town?

The realization hit him like a wet gunnysack. He didn’t want
fun. He wanted more.

What the fuck had she done?

Fallen on an old boyfriend as if she’d starved for him and
him alone. Maybe sometimes, when she was with somebody else she’d closed her
eyes and imagined Riku fucking her, but that had always warned her that
relationship had run its course. Sometimes one night was enough. But she’d
never had her fill of her big man. Never would, as far as she knew. Now he knew
too.

Fuck.

Trying hard not to mutter the curse word under her breath
and clue him into her feelings, Cyn busied herself rinsing and refilling the
glass coffeepot from the tap at the tiny sink. She fussed about filling the
filter with fresh coffee. “What, no pods?” he murmured, sliding his arms around
her waist and gently pulling her back against his warm body. He felt like
nobody else. She’d know him in the cold and the dark by the barest touch.

“There’s a great store nearby selling fresh-ground coffee.
If they thought I’d moved to pods it’d break their hearts.” The idea pulled her
away from the intensity of what they’d just done. Not for the first time she
longed for the convenience of a shower here. She’d have to look into it.

He drew a deep breath. “I missed that. Coffee doesn’t taste
the same anywhere else but in New York.”

“Not even Los Angeles?” The band had been there and San
Francisco on the first leg of their world tour.

“Not Los Angeles, Malmö, London, Moscow, Manchester, any
fucking where. New York coffee is special.”

She tried to ignore his burgeoning erection, currently pressing
against her back. How could he want sex again, after the intensity of what they’d
done? Or maybe it wasn’t intense to him. Maybe she’d experienced the
devastating emotion of surrender on her own. “You can get mud here, same as
anywhere else.”

He kissed the junction of her neck and shoulder. Cyn
suppressed her responsive shudder. “We can’t. I mean it. I’ll give you coffee
but we’ll take it through to the store. My manager’s overdue for her lunch
break. I’ll have to give her a bonus or extra time off to compensate for it. I’m
surprised she didn’t knock.”

“Would you have noticed?”

No.
“Of course.”

He sighed, the breath whispering against her sensitized
skin. “Sure. Let’s do the right thing.”

The water dripped steadily through the filter to fall as
coffee in the pot. Its scent spread through the office, masking the headier
aroma of lovemaking—no, sex. They’d had
sex
, Cyn told herself firmly.
That was kind of the idea since she didn’t want this cup any more than she’d
wanted the last one.

She moved to the side, gathering the cold leftovers and
dumping them in the sink, busying herself rinsing the mugs.

He didn’t release her, only loosed his hold enough so she
could move the amount necessary. “Are you coming to see Murder City Ravens?”

“Yes.” A small pause. She tried to lighten the atmosphere. “I
want to hear what you’ve done with your expensive education.”

He chuckled. “Two conservatories couldn’t do it, so I did
something else.”

“Couldn’t do what?”

“You know.”

She wasn’t sure. She wanted it spelled out. “No, I don’t. Do
what?”

“Turn me into a concert pianist.”

His words shocked her so much she turned to face him,
revealing her expression of disbelief. “Everywhere I read you’re the best
keyboard and effects man in the world. Not to mention your achievements on
guitar. How can not becoming a concert pianist bother you?”

“At one time it cost me everything.”

Afraid at the sudden intensity in his gaze, she quickly
turned around again when the machine gurgled to a halt. She couldn’t face her
emotions from that time, not this soon, not after she’d successfully rebuilt
her life. “It cost you very little,” she said briskly. “Don’t pretend you’ve
been yearning for me for the last—what is it?—eight years.”

He did release her then. “Didn’t you yearn for me?” He
touched his heart, fluttering his lashes in a parody of a lovelorn maiden. “I’m
devastated. Besides,” he added, reverting to normal, “it’s more like eight and
a half years.”

She didn’t want to think about it because the truth? Yes, in
a way, she had. She hadn’t put her sex life on hold like some lovelorn medieval
princess, but she did compare every man to Riku and he usually came up wanting.
Not fair, she knew it but she couldn’t help it. The way Riku had left her
trembling after their unexpected bout of rampant fucking—she didn’t want him to
know how much he still affected her. “It happens when you’re young.”

“We’re not exactly old yet.” He didn’t have to point that
out, damn him. She’d been painfully inexperienced, when she’d met the wildly
talented and just plain wild Riku.

She poured three mugs of coffee, careful to ensure her hand
didn’t shake, and then moved to the small refrigerator to find the cream. Riku
watched her but didn’t change his position.

After a swift check in the mirror, Cyn picked up two mugs
and let Riku open the door for her. He’d taken the time to drag the knitted cap
over his head, covering his distinctive hairstyle. It didn’t help to disguise
his identity, not in her sight, but he must have gotten here somehow and she’d
met him in the street with not a bodyguard in sight.

Maddy’s blue eyes widened when she saw it. “I knew I was
right,” she said, in a voice scarcely above a whisper. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

Cyn exchanged a sparkling glance with Riku. “It’s him all
right.”

“Shit!” The awed way she spoke said everything about her. “Wow.
You really are something, you know?”

Riku raised a thin, black brow and she wondered if he
plucked it or had it threaded. If she asked him he’d laugh and give her an
honest answer. She loved that about him, the way he depressed pretension in
people trying to embarrass him. He’d always done it. “We went to university
together.”

“I never went to university,” he pointed out.

She shrugged. “The Creed Institute, then.” Everyone knew
what it meant, in New York and worldwide. The Creed Institute only did one
thing. Classical music and it was world famous for teaching and performing it.

Maddy gave Cyn an accusing glare before returning her
attention to Riku. “You never told me you studied music.”

“Yeah. It didn’t work out for me.”

She might as well have said nothing. Leaving Riku to cope
with his fan she went to help a customer deliberating over varieties of
polished agates. She could still hear them. The agate display wasn’t far enough
away.

She felt his gaze on her, the intensity so uncomfortable she
had to force herself not to wriggle her shoulders. “You can get different
colors by applying heat.” She smiled, desperately trying to concentrate. “No,
we don’t do it, we buy the stones.”

It didn’t stop her hearing, “She was fantastic. Amazing. The
best in her class, hell, the best in the school.”

“So why did she give it up?” came the inevitable question
from Maddy.

“I have no idea.”

He didn’t, not really. She’d never told anybody. Never meant
to either. “Yes,” she said, in response to the patron’s query. “The red ranges
from palest pink to a deep garnet.” When she’d first seen the stones they’d
suggested endless possibilities to her but now they looked like pieces of colored
glass.

Impossible to concentrate on anything except the
conversation going on behind her.

“Doesn’t she sing?”

“Sometimes but like the rest of us she sings hits andMurder
City Ravens’ songs.”
Oh, shit.

A pause before he said, “Interesting,” and she heard the
smile in his voice.

“We’re coming to see you tonight. She never told me she knew
you.”

No answer this time.

Cyn couldn’t stand it anymore. She took the red stones to
the counter to wrap for the customer and left her browsing the other colors. “It
was a long time ago.” She got between them and tried to sound noncommittal. “I
met a lot of famous people at the institute. Most went into orchestras or the
opera chorus.”

“You could’ve been one,” he said, no humor in his voice. “And
you wouldn’t have joined the chorus.”

She shrugged for answer and turned to her customer, who’d
chosen some black obsidian and a few blue topazes to go with her red quartz.
Then she set to selling the findings. The shopper was new to the hobby. She’d
probably shove the stuff to the back of a drawer when she got home, or try it
and discover she liked it. Any which way it made a nice sale and kerchinged the
afternoon nicely.

Then the woman peered at him closer and frowned. “You look
just like—can’t remember his name—the wild one with that group—”

Cyn wouldn’t have pegged her for a Murder City Ravens fan.
But these days, with the band appearing on chat shows and outside their comfort
zone of arenas and concert halls, it was hard to keep track.

Riku smiled and behaved himself, saying yes, it was him and
was she going to the Garden tonight? After some conversation and an autograph
on the woman’s paper bag Cyn perked up. When the customer had left she leaned
against the wall behind her, effectively trapping him in. “You don’t have to go
yet, do you?”

She didn’t have to explain herself for Riku to get what she
meant. A rueful laugh shook his big frame. “No, I guess not. You want me to
earn my coffee, don’t you?”

And the rest
, she thought, but she didn’t articulate
it. He’d knocked her world sideways by appearing in front of her. She’d gotten herself
into order, made something of her life and there he was again. Well she was a
deal older now and she had no intention of letting him disturb her any more
than he had already. The sex was spectacular, sure, but—

But nothing. The sex was phenomenal, out of this world, as
if all he had to do was stick his dick in her pussy and she came. Not that they’d
ever been in danger of doing that, except for their first time. As if the same
artist had crafted them as a pair, made for each other. Their connection always
went that way and she was sick of it. Perhaps, if she saw him again, she’d fuck
his brains out and finally persuade herself he was nothing special, time to
move on.

As if that had worked before.

“Take off your hat.”

Riku rolled his eyes but obeyed her. She couldn’t resist a “Good
boy,” and got a pat on the butt for reward. Maddy didn’t see it, thank God,
otherwise she’d never let Cyn forget it. Just as well she hadn’t caught on to
what happened in the back room ten minutes ago.

The golden eagle gleamed in the deep-purple depths, a
perfect, if gaudy, foil to its blazing magnificence. Some people arrived to
take photos and others lined up.

In half an hour twenty people had called in and all bought
something, mainly because Riku offered to sign their purchases, or the bags or
tissue paper. He smilingly refused to scribble his moniker on random pieces of
paper, or T-shirts, or anything unconnected with her store. Business was brisk,
too much for conversation. Maddy cruised the store, chatting to customers about
their choices. They sold more of the made-up jewelry than the loose stones and
findings, unusual for this place, which was mainly for the craftsperson and
sometimes for upmarket trade. “I have another store near the Metropolitan
Museum that sells upmarket designer creations,” she said at one point.

Although she’d addressed it to a customer, Riku glanced at
her. “You have another store?”

“I have three.” She said it with a deal of pride. “The
boutique, this one and another like this farther along Fifth.”

He paused, his pen hovering over a paper bag. He turned it
over and read the legend. “
Cyn’s Creations
.”

She glanced at him sidelong and gave him a cheeky grin. “I
did make something of myself after all.”

“I never doubted it.”

Tears pricked her eyes. Yes, he had. Everyone did when she’d
left the institute. The final audition and interview had taken place in private
but she’d collected her things and left, not willing to talk to anyone. Her
parents hadn’t helped when she’d braved the cost of a transatlantic telephone
call and then followed it up with an email. So she’d stayed here and lucked in
to this. No, not lucked in—she’d worked for it.

Luck was what happened when you were a member of a
moderately successful rock band and struck pay dirt with a number-one global
hit. Followed by another one and another.

She didn’t believe that either. Nobody got that good by
accident. Oh, someone might start with basic talent but it took hard graft to
turn it into real results.

Thinking of the work he’d done relaxed her. He’d achieved
what he’d wanted to do at base—forged a career in music—and made a success of
it. Not everybody did. Was he as driven as ever? The field he’d chosen didn’t
take the same effort as the other path, concert pianist, might have. A rock
star could skim by for an hour.

No, she remembered the music again. That hadn’t happened,
although he might not be doing all the work. They worked as hard as any group
of classical musicians.

A light touch on the small of her back reminded her he hadn’t
forgotten her. As if she needed reminding he was standing next to her. In a
dream, she had to force herself to concentrate on the customers, on the stock,
on her job. She couldn’t remember having to do that before but then Riku hadn’t
visited her here before.

He leaned close. “When do you finish?”

“Around six.”

He grunted. When nobody stood near enough to hear them, he
pressed on her waist, urging her to turn to face him. He spoke quietly, letting
his hair fall across his face. “What about the cash? You take a lot of it.”

“Security comes to collect it in about five minutes.” She
smiled up at him, warmed by his concern. “I don’t carry bags to the bank, nor
do I have much cash here overnight. I know nothing is entirely safe. We have
shutters and the rest of the shit you need these days but we try to minimize
risk.”