Climbing High (15 page)

She clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her skin sealed to his. Her hair wrapped about them both, playing peek-a-boo, hiding then disclosing her nakedness like the tantalizing veils of an Arabian dancer.

She’d turned down the bed, he noted, turned on the soft lighting on the bed stands, all indications of what she wanted. Again something shifted inside him. The honesty of Siree’s actions, the knowledge that she wanted him, made him seem reborn, clean and as powerful as an emperor.

He laid her on his cream-colored sheets with the same care he’d set a precious object into cotton baton. Then he came down beside her. Siree’s head jerked back and she stifled a yelp. “What is it?” He reared up, searching her face.

“You’re on my hair.” Her head was pulled at a sharp angle while her hand grabbed for the hair beneath his elbow.

“My God, I’m sorry.” He looked for a place to put his hand, knee, hip, anywhere to get his weight off her hair, but all of the spaces where filled with lengths of gold. Finally, he pushed some aside and lifted himself. She pulled it free, then sat up and thrust it all behind her. She sank back onto the bed and reached up her arms for him.

“I’m so sorry. Talk about a mood killer.” She flushed, chagrined.

“Or a new experience.” He tried to make her feel better. “I’ve never been around so much hair. I’d guess you’ve never had it cut. Is there a reason? You have a scissor phobia, or you need it to tame unicorns?” he teased. Finding the answer to his questions about her brought a different excitement to that of making love, but somehow it seemed just as important.

“My father refused to let me have it cut.” She reached to toy with the hair on Jake’s chest. She glanced up to measure his interest. “And then he died and it seemed disloyal to have it cut. It didn’t seem to be a problem with the two men I’ve been involved with.” She traced the narrow line of Jake’s hair that ran down past his navel, looked lower and noted she definitely had his interest. She licked her lips, seemed to search for the rest of her thought.

He wanted to think since they were talking length she’d been impressed by his.

“But it’s probably grown several feet in the two years since,” she stuttered back into speech. I didn’t realize it would be such an issue when making love.”

He wondered for a fleeting second if she realized how much information she’d given him about her sex life. It took only that second for him to conclude that it had been deliberate. Siree wanted him to know it had been a long time for her, that she didn’t do this lightly, and if her last affair was two years ago she had a clean bill of health from her annual medical. She’d said love, not sex. She gave him such personal information in the same no fuss way she went over a forensic analysis. It acted on him like an aphrodisiac for some crazy reason.

“I had a medical three months ago and got an A+. I haven’t been with a woman since last August. And I have every intention of protecting you while we make love.”

Her eyes glowed into his, telling him how much she valued his honesty in return, and the great deal of information he’d just shared with her. Did she realize his last sexual relationship ended the same time he’d met her?

“Speaking of which,”—Jake rested his weight on one arm and leaned over to kiss her again—“you are exquisite, Desiree. I feel like I’ve had a banquet set before me and don’t know where to start. Everything looks so delicious.”

“I’m glad you feel that way. But it won’t taste half as good if you let the food get cold,” she teased.

He leaned to kiss the intriguing crinkles at the corner of her eyes, the up tilted curve of her mouth. “You have baby skin everywhere,” he marveled, kissing down her neck and across her collarbone. “Not just the places I’d expect to find it, like here,”—he pressed kisses onto the inside of her elbows—“or here.” He touched his lips to her breasts. “Or here.” His lips played delicately along the inside of her thigh. His hands wandered ahead of his lips, discovering the long, sleek line of her calf, the ticklish spot under her high arch, the straight toes that curled when he stroked his finger across them.

He shifted, moving back up her body to search out more delightful places to lick. “I want to gorge on you,” he murmured. He lifted his head to look up her exquisite body and meet her eyes, just as he opened his mouth over her taut belly and bit lightly. He moved on to tongue the diamond ring that pierced her navel. “I saw this when we climbed in France and fantasized about it ever since. His tongue stabbed in and out of the ring, sinking into her navel each time before retreating.

“Jake.” Siree’s stomach muscles clenched. She sounded urgent. “I need to kiss you. Come up to me.” Her hands tugged in his hair. He moved swiftly to oblige, causing her to yelp again. They located the locks of hair he’d pulled on this time, and again, she gathered it up and pushed it back. “My God, this is so embarrassing.” She lay with her hands over her face.

He could see her passion played a losing game with her feeling of inadequacy. He needed to rescue her before she fell to defeat. He rose from the bed and strode into the dressing room, where he’d noted she’d left her backpack and clothing earlier. He found her hairbrush and the bands she’d used to contain her braids and returned to the bed. Siree had rolled onto her stomach and placed a pillow over her head, looking like a chastened child in the throw of tears. Her shoulders shook and muffled gasps sounded. Siree crying squeezed his heart. She probably thought he’d walked away in disgust.

He had to use a great deal of strength to wrest the pillow from her hands then, holding her shoulders, he rolled her over to face him. Hair spilled everywhere, covering her face, her body, the bed. “I’m sorry.” She gasped, peering through strands of it to see his face. “I can’t help myself.” She burst into another bout of laughter. “This is just so ridiculous. Jake, your face—” She clutched her stomach and rolled in a ball on the bed, great gusts of laughter coming from her slender frame.

“I knew I brought this hair brush in here for a reason.” He felt such infinite relief, he sagged. “I think I’ll use it on your bottom. I thought you were crying your eyes out and it almost broke my heart.”

She went still, the laughter stopped. She turned her head, brushing the heavy locks from her face to look at him. “Oh, Jake, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She struggled to sit up. The masses of hair bound her. Whichever way she turned, she pulled it. “Ouch, damn, blasted hair.” With her hand on his arm, she pulled herself straight. “Well, are you going to help me or not?” She scowled at him.

“I’m not sure. I’m enjoying the performance too much. His eyes drifted from her bobbing breasts to the tantalizing curve of her bottom, and back. A devilish light gleamed in their aquamarine depths.

She blushed, reading the vast experience in his expression. Next to him, she felt a novice. “So wicked Jake is back,” she mumbled. “Give me the brush, please.”

“No, I think I’ll keep it.” Again, he looked at her bottom with an unholy gleam in his eyes. Then he moved closer to her, raising the brush.

“Don’t you dare, Jake Ingles. I didn’t come here to have kinky sex with a pervert,” she squealed, trying to get off the bed. Her eyes gleamed gold. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder.

He grabbed a handful of hair and held on. “Now I have you at my mercy, my little dervish.” Winding it around his hand, he reeled her in with a gentle but indomitable hold. She crawled back to him like a svelte cat, responding to his masterly guidance. Jake settled her in the middle of the bed, with her back to him. Releasing his hold, he gathered up streams of hair from the nape of her neck. Soon he had it all flowing down her back, and over his thighs, pulling the brush through it, till he’d worked the tangles out. Laying the brush aside the bed, he plaited it in two long braids. He plaited them together. “I notice you always wear your hair like this when you’re active,” he husked, pressing a kiss to her nape before smoothing the heavy braid down her back. “And I’m counting on you being very active.”

“It’s scary how much you see.” She ran her hand down the braid, noting how he’d constructed it. “Is there anything you haven’t observed about me?” She leaned her head against his shoulder so she could search his eyes.

Heat suffused his blood. His penis stirred to life. “I haven’t seen your face when you’re lost to your orgasm or felt your body come apart in my arms, or moved inside you and heard you beg me for more,” he rasped. He set the brush on the bed stand and turned her to lie back down on the bed, lowering his length beside her. With deliberation, he brought her long braid out from between them and laid it back over the pillow, out of the way. “Now I’m ready to do a little experimenting so I can observe all those things. Are you?”

“Behold your humble lab specimen.” Her voice quivered, but there was no misreading the anticipation in her eyes. She gave herself up to his kiss. He lowered his lids and surrendered to the magical pull of Desiree.

They feasted on each other throughout the night. Around three he left her napping while he loaded a tray with snacks.

“Excellent repast.” She licked strawberry juice from her fingers then his lips. “But I’m still hungry.” Like a sinuous feline, she crawled over him, licking and biting till she had him engorged and in the scalding embrace of her mouth. He came close to dying of pleasure before he flipped her onto her stomach, eased into her, felt her shiver and push up to him while her husky voice begged him for more.

When the alarm on her watch beeped, he watched her struggle up to search for it.

“Gribbs has my get away planned for pre-dawn. I have to leave soon.”

Their fingers interlocked either side of her head as she moved below him, eyes closed while she found her pleasure, and he continued to rock until they’d crested together. The vision of her coming apart in his arms would be his favorite memory till his dying breath.

She lingered over their goodbye kiss and left him drowning in her scent, his body still sensitized from hers, and far too aware of that place inside him that felt empty without her.

****

He retreated to that place in his mind every chance he had through what seemed like the interminable month of May. As he pounded across a wide expanse of lawn behind his house, he remembered how he’d stretched out their lovemaking the first time, needing to explore every nuance of her response and then he’d found the control to let her explore him, until they’d succumbed to ecstasy together in a place far beyond his experience. He’d ordered a meal, laughed at her clever quips and teasing, marveled at her appetite for food, sex, and life in general. They’d romped like toddlers on the bed, tickling and wrestling for supremacy until play turned to passion. Though the sexual experience had far surpassed any other, it surprised him that his thoughts returned just as often to the laughter they’d shared, and the tenderness in Siree’s touch, when she’d woken him before she left.

She had flown back to Toronto on the company jet with him, but Ty had monopolized his time, enthusiastically sharing his plans to cut his hours and focus on getting in shape. He even mentioned casually that he was thinking of relocating to Vancouver, his keen eyes studying Jake for his response.

Since then Jake had seen Siree only one time, though they’d called each other on landlines in hotel lobbies and from the odd burn phone that Gribbs supplied issued to a false identity. Both methods left Jake frustrated and worried. He wondered how long his straightforward Siree would be willing to play covert games just to have him around. She could have any man she wanted. He didn’t kid himself that his money or power counted with her.

He’d screwed up badly. Impatient, frustrated, wild to see her, he’d acted precipitously. He’d flown into Curaçao shortly after she’d arrived there, planning to surprise her. The surprise had been on him and the results devastating. An American tourist recognized him, took his photo, downloaded it to the Internet and messaged a few friends. By the time he and Siree walked out of the restaurant, the local press and any slime-bucket wanting to make a few dollars from the rags had shown up.

Sweat soaked Jake’s tank. He pushed back a lock of damp hair with an impatient hand and picked up his pace. Thankfully, his estate outside Toronto provided the privacy he needed to get out and run.

He couldn’t run away from his memories though. The helpless look on Siree’s face when a dozen cameras flashed played repetitively in his mind. Panicked, she’d turned into him, hiding her face in his chest, and he had wrapped his arms around her instinctively, wanting to protect her. What might have been brushed over as a business dinner became an impassioned embrace in all the dailies.

Siree had been devastated. Soon, details of her life filled the airways and newssheets around the world. They’d resurrected the death of her father, harassed her friends for tell-all features and sifted through her mother’s career and retirement for artifacts of interest.

“I can’t do this.” She plead with him to understand, as they’d talked at her hotel. Her eyes were glazed with tears she refused to release. “I need you to make it go away. Please, Jake. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She’d wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek on his chest. “Just leave, and give me a little time to process this free of the circus that follows you around. I can’t come out of here till they’re gone and I have to complete my job.”

Helpless to argue against her decision, when she was so distressed, he’d left.

Unfortunately, the press didn’t all leave with him.
Who’s the New Girl in JDI’s life? Is Jake at it again? Ingles Island Hops with New Bunny.
He shuddered at how Siree would react to that one. The press liked nothing better than asking questions, then answering them with nonsense. Half a world away at her insistence, Jake did the only thing he could to help her: he stayed away. It galled him to let a bunch of cold-blooded snoops come between them.

Conflicted, he raged at his selfishness in not staying away, yet every instinct argued he needed to be with her, hold her, comfort her, and run interference while she went through what he could only imagine was her concept of hell. It infuriated him that he’d allowed the press to push so far into his life that they no longer recognized boundaries.