Burned Deep (14 page)

“Hello,” he said, all secretive and sexy. Though with the slight edge I'd anticipated.

“Hi.”

“I see you still have someone waiting in the wings.”

I fought the smile over his possessiveness. It'd only irritate him, I surmised. “Kyle's a friend. That's all. Like Mikaela.”

“Definitely not like Mikaela.” He gave a sharp shake of his head. “That's not how I see it at all. He looks at you as though he's about to ask you on a date. Or kiss you.”

I could say the same for
his
friend but refrained. “I doubt he'll do either. I certainly haven't encouraged him. And you keep getting in his way.”

“Good.”

The corners of my mouth quivered. I couldn't hold back the smile this time. “Could you be any more alpha … territorial?”

“No one knows we're together, and that's fine for now. But he doesn't need to be sniffing around.”

Similar to when we'd been on the phone, I mentally tripped over the
we're together
part. And the fact that he'd likely go through the roof if he knew I'd told Kyle to apply at the Lux. I figured it was best to keep that to myself for now.

The salt-and-pepper-haired associate or friend of Dane's from the bar suddenly appeared at his elbow. “Dane. We have a chance to speak with Delfino about Mikaela's Old Town market.”

“Of course.” As usual, Dane spoke to someone else while staring at me. It took him several seconds to tear his gaze away. He said, “Ethan Evans, Ari DeMille. She works at the hotel now. Events Director. Ari, this is Ethan. A former Harvard professor and one of my investors.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss DeMille.”

“Call me Ari, please.”

“I'll be back in a few minutes,” Dane told me—warned me? “Try to stay out of trouble.”

They left me on the terrace. I strolled over to the railing where there was an overhang that protected me from the torrent. I believed we were about to set a record for most rainfall in decades.

Thankfully, the wind remained calm. The Phoenix area could be exceptionally dangerous during monsoon season because of the dust storms, or haboobs, as the local weather people called them. They could be up to sixty or so feet wide and several kilometers tall, completely blanketing parts of the city as the wall of dust rolled through. We didn't have that threat in Sedona, but we still experienced the violent thunderstorms.

“He is so not good at hiding his bad mood.” Kyle joined me again.

I innocently asked, “Who?” Though, of course, I already knew the answer.

“Your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend. He's my boss.”

“He acts likes he's your boyfriend.”

“Boss,” I simply contended. No need to stir the pot. And I still wasn't totally sure
what
Dane and I were. Another reason not to stress over Heidi Klum.

Easier said than done
.

“So, that makes you available?” Kyle asked with his engaging grin.

Okay, Dane had been right.

I said, “I'm basically committed to my career, so—”

“Getting together for a beer wouldn't be out of the question, though?”

I had to give Kyle credit for even making the suggestion when Dane had been so visibly agitated at seeing us together.

“I'm not one to date,” I said, clearing the air. “But I'd meet up with you, Meghan, and Sean for a couple of drinks. As friends,” I added with a placating look.

“Well,” he said, appearing mildly disappointed, “I suppose that's a start. It could always lead to dinner.”

I laughed at his persistence. Then launched into less-risky conversation as Meghan and Sean came over. Fifteen or twenty minutes later, I caught sight of Dane out of the corner of my eye. I decided
irritated
was much too mild a word for him, despite the fact that I wasn't alone with Kyle. He wasn't monopolizing me. Though I supposed just standing in close proximity to me was bad enough in Dane's eyes.

“I have some business to take care of,” I said before leaving the group. I met Dane halfway across the terrace. “It's not what you think.” That wasn't entirely true, but why make a scene?

He said, “I've accomplished what I needed to, so let's get out of here before I have to convince him to stay away from you.”

“Just friends,” I repeated. “I made the distinction
very
clear.”

“And I can see he's totally on board with that. Especially when you're so nice to him.”

“Am I supposed to be a jerk?”

“No, that's my job if he keeps hitting on you.”

How had he known?

“Let's go,” Dane insisted. He didn't take me by the hand or arm, for which I was grateful, but his tone certainly left no room for opposition. My God, he really was annoyed that I'd spent time with Kyle. And coming from Dane, it was the sexiest damn thing. A little alarming, too, in a thrilling way. This level of intensity wasn't something I was used to, nothing I'd ever encountered. That it was all because of me was deeply arousing.

I said my good-byes—with Kyle eyeing me suspiciously—and Dane and I left the party. The limo pulled around and the valet held the door open for us. They must have loaded Dane's bags in the trunk when the driver had picked him up at the airport.

I slid in first and felt a modicum of nervous energy with Dane sitting so close to me. I crossed my legs and gripped my clutch in my lap.

He'd removed his jacket before getting in and tossed it onto the seat across from us. Then he loosened his tie. His hand rested on my leg, at the hem of my short skirt.

“I'm not having sex in a limo,” I diligently informed him, my gaze flitting to the raised partition. I didn't have a specific aversion to the prospect. I was stalling, especially after his power play inside and how his dominance turned me on. I needed to get a grip on the situation before it spiraled out of control.

Unfortunately, I suspected it was too late for that.

He gave me his half-assed grin. “I had a foot massage in mind. These shoes must be killing your feet when you're not used to wearing them.”

I'd told him they weren't my style before. It was kind of sweet that he'd remembered.

His fingers trailed over my skin, making me tremble. They swept around to the underside of my knee. Slowly, they grazed downward, over my calf to my ankle. Such a simple touch, as though he were acclimating me to it, and yet so electric.

He slipped off the high heel, then started rubbing, with just the right amount of pressure, not tickling my sensitive soles. Caressing perfectly. A sigh fell from my parted lips. He grinned again.

Only Dane Bax could make a foot massage so amazingly sensual. It felt heavenly but also highly arousing. The thrumming inside me was a demanding cry for another release. A demanding cry for
him.

My hands remained curled around my purse when they wanted to be buried in Dane's lush-looking hair. His cologne and heat teased my senses. His nearness taunted me. His head dipped and his warm lips brushed over my bare thigh. Tempting me.

Nerve endings sizzled. My nipples puckered against the shelf bra in my dress.

He uncrossed my legs and parted them slightly. Then he eased off the other shoe and rubbed that foot. I came alive under his touch, the thrumming turning into a sharp throb.

“Dane,” I whispered. That word was the most I could get out, because a lust-induced haze clouded my thoughts. And I was breathless once more.

He glanced up at me and the need I felt must have been reflected in my eyes. His jaw clenched briefly. He stopped what he was doing and pulled apart the ends of his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, yanking the tails from his pants.

I took in his sculpted chest, so beautifully defined with hard pecs that rose above ripped abs. All that tanned skin. Jesus, he was stunning.

Without a word and without breaking our eye contact, he reached for the clutch I'd pretty much mutilated with my death grip. He pried it from my hands and set it aside. Then his palms splayed over the tops of my thighs and he pushed my skirt up. I lifted off the seat and he bunched the material at my hips.

He spread my legs wider and wedged himself into the vee they created. One arm snaked around my waist and he tugged me closer to him, so that my satin-covered sex pressed firmly against the corrugated grooves of his stomach. The aggressive move and erotic touch jolted me.

I grasped the edge of the seat with both hands on either side of us. His hands moved over me, up to my breasts. He squeezed them roughly, enough to convey his desire and spark a frenzy of excitement.

He leaned close and his mouth swept over the rounded tops cresting the tight bodice of my dress.

“You smell like rain and sex,” he rumbled against my skin.

My hips jerked at his words.

“That's it,” he murmured, softly kissing his way up to my neck. “Rub your pussy against my stomach.”

His hands slid around to my back and then lower to clasp my hips. He guided me into a slow, sultry rhythm that had me grinding against his muscles, the satin swath of my thong slipping and sliding along my swollen folds and clit.

“Dane … Oh, Christ.” Heat flared between my legs. My inner thighs quivered. My belly tensed and released as the feel of solid, rippled sinew caressed the heart of me, pushing me up, up,
up
 …

He found a particularly tender spot just below my ear and pressed his tongue against it, then nipped gently.

“
Oh.
Oh, God.” My head fell back on my shoulders and he continued the delicious torment.

“You're wet for me,” he said against my throat. One of his hands relinquished my hip and he reached between us to whisk aside the triangle. Then his flesh was against mine and I let out a small cry at the velvety feel of skin that covered his steel abs. I writhed on the seat, rubbing against him as heat and sensation swelled in my core.

“That feels so good,” I said on a sharp breath.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

I did as instructed. Leading me, he picked up the pace.

I panted in harsh rasps of air. “I'm going to come.”

A low growl escaped him. “You make me so damn hard.”

His teeth grazed my earlobe, biting lightly.

“Fuck. Oh … yes … oh … oh, God…” The swelling expanded and exploded. I called out, “Dane!” as fire blazed through me, consumed me. My fingertips pressed into the leather. My inner walls clenched as I held on to the orgasm, prolonging it, savoring it. Vibrating from it.

“I like hearing my name on your lips,” he said as he kissed my neck. “Now I want to hear you beg. For me.”

 

chapter 8

He released my hips, shifted away. Dane sank into the seat across from me and our gazes locked. I could barely breathe and my pulse jumped in wild beats. But I hadn't missed a single word he'd said.

Reaching for a packet of Wet-Naps on the bar, he wiped his hands. Not his stomach. That sent more zings through my body than I could process all at once.

“Are you a virgin, Ari?”

“Of course not.” My chest rose and fell sharply with my rash breathing.

He dragged his gaze from mine and it flashed to my fingers, still grasping the edge of the seat. His eyes lifted to my face. “Did someone hurt you?”

“No. Nothing like that. It's not—it's not that.”

He tried a different tactic. “How do you like to be fucked?”

I pulled in a slice of air. “Hard and fast. My clothes still on.”

His brow knitted. “Every time?”

I nodded.

“Tell me about the last time. No, don't.” He raked a hand through his hair, as though knowing the details would torment him. “Give me an idea, so I know what we're talking about here.”

I wasn't sure this was the right path to travel, but I offered the highlights. “I'll see a man in a hotel bar, sit next to him, let him buy me a drink or two. I'll suggest we go to his room—or he will. I don't need to know his name. I don't need to know anything about him. We go at it. No foreplay. Not much touching. No kissing. Five, ten minutes later, I leave.”

His jaw tightened as he took this all in. Then he asked, “Why so impersonal?”

“I don't want to get involved. Intimacy gets too complicated. It leads to emotions you can't control. Ones that can be … devastating.”

The furrowed brow jerked up. “And you don't consider what we just did intimate?”

I nodded slowly, steeling myself. “Yes. And that's dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because I know what happens when things like this go wrong. My grandparents, my parents … really volatile splits. Also”—I gave a small shrug, though this was no minuscule matter—“My dad was totally blindsided by my mother's cheating. It destroyed him. For quite some time. He was a mess. And that wreaked havoc on his career. His life. My life.”

Dane rested his forearms on his thighs and leaned forward. “You think history will repeat itself?”

“I do believe it's genetic.”

“Cheating?”

“No,” I was quick to say. “I would never do that to anyone. Especially since I know the kind of pain it causes. I just don't think I'm wired to get deeply involved.”

“So … no kidding when you told me you weren't the marrying kind.”

“No kidding.”

“Hmm.” His dark eyes clouded as he sat back in his seat.

“We're just talking about sex, right?” I dared to ask. “Between us. Anything more—” I shook my head.

I suspected the socialites in his circle fell hard and fast for him, that he was used to it. How could he not be? He was rich, gorgeous, intelligent, and powerful. And I'd seen the extraordinarily beautiful Mikaela Madsen fawn over him. Which probably drove Fabrizio nuts.

Not to mention, Dane knew how to make a woman come hard enough to see stars. I'd learned that firsthand, and he hadn't even touched me, not really. So it was an easy assumption to make that he left plenty of wet thongs and broken hearts in his wake.