Promises Reveal (14 page)

Another breath, and then she said, “That would be a stretch.”

“You don’t think I could find ways to work
niceties
into the conversation frequently over the next six months?”

“Not and continue to be original.”

He lifted her slightly, just enough so he could massage the tension from her neck. “That sounds distinctly like a challenge.”

“How can you take something like that as a challenge?”

“My male pride has been attacked.”

“That is so much rubbish.”

Running his finger down the bridge of her nose, he smiled when her eyes crossed. Sass, fun, and cute. He really did like her. “Ah, but it made you smile.”

“And that’s what you wanted?”

Yeah, he realized, it was. “I’ve always liked your smile.” “You have?”

“Evie, there are more sides to me than the one that preaches on Sunday.”

“I knew it!”

What did she think he was going to confess? “One of them is that I appreciate a beautiful woman.”

“Even an unconventional one?”

Now she was fishing. Fishing was good. A woman didn’t fish unless, in her mind, she’d already surrendered. He tapped the end of her nose. “Especially an unconventional one.” Grazing his fingers down her neck, he asked, “How about you? You’ve been studying hard on me. Did you like what you saw?”

Indecision hovered in her eyes as she weighed the benefits of honesty versus those of a lie. He let her take her time, amusing himself by stroking his fingertips beneath the neckline of her gown, finding the slant of her collarbone, following it down to the hollow of her throat, teasing the nerve endings to life with brief, skimming touches, judging how much pressure to apply by the catch in her breath, the flicker of her eyelashes. Evie was definitely in the mood to be seduced. Finally, she swallowed and nodded.

“Good.” He inched his hand lower, over the top curve of her breast, holding her gaze. Stopping just short of the soft peak, he felt the blush heat her skin, the rise of goose bumps, the subtle swelling that indicated softening elsewhere. “Then you have to know there’s more than enough wildness in me to welcome all the wildness you can throw at it.”

He got to see a spark of that wildness right then. Her grip tightened on his shoulder and her head cocked to the side as she pulled him down. “Is that a dare?”

“I’m sure as heck hoping you’ll take it as one.”

SHE MADE IT to the fourth button before she lost momentum.

“Something wrong?” Brad asked, easing the ribbons of her peignoir free with a leisurely draw. Women were miracles of softness meant to be savored. Evie, with her soft skin, soft heart, and impulsive spirit, more so than most.

“You’re just so much more compelling up close.” Her hands slipped between the lapels of his shirt and tangled in the wiry hair on his chest. “Seeing you from afar is just not the same.”

The next ribbon slid from the eyelets in the lace without a whipser of protest, revealing more of that beautiful skin and the first hint of cleavage. The white satin, no more delicate than her flesh, trailed between her breasts in a shimmering stream. He folded the ribbon back on itself. A silky
X
to mark his spot. “As touching me, you mean?”

Her lip slipped between her teeth. “Yes. The texture is so wonderful.”

The statement wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Then again, Evie rarely did what he expected.

“Remind me to talk to you about your technique.”

“My technique is just fine. It’s just that you’re magnificent.”

Another burst of laughter escaped. She was always making him laugh at moments he never thought he should. There was a certain clinical precision in the placement of her palms, the press of her fingers . . . “You wouldn’t be thinking about sculpting me, would you?”

Her gaze flicked to his guiltily. “How did you know?”

Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over hers, dawdling when her lips parted, accepting the invitation to repeat the caress. “You always get a certain look in your eyes when you’re contemplating immortalizing something.”

She didn’t seem to get his hint, just kept alternating between petting and memorizing his torso, her fingers coming close to his nipples but never connecting. Promising, teasing, tormenting his chest, his abdomen, his chest again.

“I’ve never sculpted anyone before.” Pushing him back, she worked her other hand inside the front of his shirt, that expression of intense concentration coming over her face again as her palms learned the shape of his right pectoral. “But you make me want to.”

He wished he had an ounce of artistic talent, because if he did he’d preserve the way she looked right now, eagerness clashing with innocence, passion overriding reserve. “What else do I make you want?”

“You make me want to be wild.” Her lashes touched her cheeks in a moment of shyness, before lifting to reveal the desire deepening the blue of her eyes. “Very, very wild . . .”

He made her feel wild? That little huskiness in her voice as she confessed was like the most vivid of rasps over his desire, sensitizing it to the tune of her voice, the scent of her skin. She took a deep breath. The twist of ribbon shimmered. Satin on satin. A gateway to heaven . . . He touched the fold with his finger, spread the tight circle until it encased his finger in a snug little hug. “Good thing I have a penchant for wild, then.”

It came out more growl than drawl. Her tongue touched her lower lip in a flash of pink, leaving a hint of moisture. Brad licked his own lip, imagining it was hers. His cock throbbed as she did it again, indulging in a few imaginings of its own. Dropping his gaze, he could easily discern the pout of her nipples pressing up through the sheer gown. Sweet little nubs shining the same pink as the ribbon. He could already imagine how they’d melt against his tongue, tighten beneath his kiss, flush with her passion, beg for the graze of his teeth.

“Yes, “she sighed, her index finger tracing the flat outline of his areola. With a glance up, she caught the direction of his interest. He expected her blush, but the seductive little twist that slid the gown to the left, almost but not quite baring her breast, that was a complete surprise. “It is.”

A nudge sent the gown the rest of the way. “Playing for keeps?” he asked, pressing the engorged nubbin into the fullness of her breast.

“Yes.”

It came out a high-pitched squeak, inspiring another smile. When he pulled his hand away, her breast sprang back to its natural shape, quivering just a little. Just enough to coax the cup of his hand. The nipple was harder, redder. Pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger, he wrapped it around the base, pulling it tight. Her gasp whispered over his fingers. His cock jerked and stretched. She’d been watching him wrap her nipple.

“There, pretty as a picture.”

Despite the blush flooding her torso, she grinned and cocked her head to the side. “Don’t you want to unwrap your present?”

Shit, maybe wishing away her shyness hadn’t been the best plan. Evie in the throes of exploration was as tempting as a hot summer day after a bitter cold winter. As seductive as the first moment of peace after a bloody battle. As potent as good whiskey on an empty stomach. And like the latter, she had a tendency to knock the sense right from his head. If she didn’t finish getting his shirt open soon, he was going to do something drastic—like rip it off.

“Maybe I just want to wrap it tighter.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Because you’ll like it.”

And she did. The proof was in the way her cheeks flushed a brighter pink, the way her lip slipped between her teeth, and especially the way the sweet perfume of her arousal scented the air. Her nails curled into his chest, still not delivering the hard caress he needed. He tied off the knot, leaving her imprisoned by the erotic little ache.

“Unbutton my shirt.” Her nails grazed his skin as she battled with the stubborn fastenings, teasing, tormenting with little touches when he needed full contact. Burning through his passion until he couldn’t stand it anymore. Three tugs and buttons flew across the room, plunking off the wood floor. Evie stared at him in surprise, eyes wide, mouth open. With a growl, he dragged her hand against his chest. “Touch me right, damn it.”

“I don’t know what that is!”

With his hand over hers, he showed her. It didn’t take her long to pick up what he wanted. Her nail raked his nipple. Lightning shot from his chest to his cock, tearing a hole through every barrier he’d built. His teeth clenched on a snarl as she jerked her hand away, depriving him of what he needed. Capturing it, he brought it back, pressing her palm to his skin, holding it there as the heat seeped beneath the surface. And she let him, not moving, not fighting, not giving. Just letting him while she watched him with big blue eyes.

Shit. Tipping his head back, Brad took a steadying breath. He was supposed to be seducing his wife, not scaring her. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

Losing control. Something he never did. “You don’t have to worry that I’ll be like that when it matters.”

“Doesn’t it all matter?”

“Yeah.” He shifted his position until he was over her. Her breasts with their hard little nipples pressed into his skin, the left a little harder than the right. Working his knee between her thighs, he made a place for himself. “It all matters.”

He’d do well to remember that. For all her curiosity, Evie was a virgin and if he didn’t get his reactions to her under control this would be the only time he’d get near her lithe body. And that would be a crime, because once was never going to be enough for him to sate the lust she inspired in him. Had always inspired in him. He realized now that there was no longer a reason to keep his distance. He might have never approached her if things had stayed as they were, but they hadn’t, and now she was his, about to
become
his.

He fingered the ribbon binding her nipple. “When I take this off, you’re going to be very sensitive.”

A twist of her torso put tension on the satin. She gasped, “I already am.”

He pulled it just that much tighter, knowing from her frown that she’d crossed that line where pain and pleasure met. And she wasn’t backing off. Shit. It was his turn to groan. She was going to burn him alive. “Good.”

His cock brushed the inside of her thigh. Even through the layers of cloth, the contact seared.

Sprinkling kisses down her cheek, the side of her neck, along the line of her collarbone before working back inward, he gentled her into the thought of his mouth on her chest. The collar of her gown got in his way. “You’ve got too many clothes on.”

“I was going to say the same thing about you.”

“Not planning on being shy?”

She shook her head, her fingers linking behind his neck. “I’m twenty-five years old. I’ve spent a year painting you in parts. I think I’ve earned the full effect, don’t you?”

He remembered the painting. “The full effect might be more than you bargained for.”

Her smile was as soft as her touch. “I can feel you against me, Brad. I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you disliked about that painting.”

She might have an idea, but the reality was bound to startle, and he didn’t want Evie startled. He wanted her like this. Strong, curious, and passionate. “And here I thought the reality was going to come as a shock.”

“Oh, it’ll likely be a shock, but not a completely unexpected one. Most things in nature are in proportion.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “But you didn’t paint me in proportion.”

She shrugged. “I was hesitant to guess.”

“So you did what?”

“I transferred the . . . appendage from my friend’s baby.”

Parts. Bits and pieces. She’d created him from fragments. He dropped his forehead to hers. No wonder she had suspicions about who he really was. She’d never really seen the carefully constructed image he’d presented. “You could have given me pants.”

“That wouldn’t have accomplished my goal.”

“Shocking your family?”

“Convincing them I couldn’t be trusted out of their sight.”

She brushed her thumbs over his nipples, her gaze narrowing when he jerked and his breath hissed in.

“That feels good?”

“Damn good.”

She did it again, her eyes dark with curiosity and her own budding passion. “Like what?”

Shit, he hadn’t even kissed her breasts and she had him almost to the point of no return. The next pass brought a growl of pleasure to his throat. Reaching down, he gathered up the skirt of the gown. There were volumes of material. Yards of fabric that tested his patience. “Give me a second and I’ll show you.”

“Don’t hurry on my account.” Her head cocked to the side as she used the side of her nail against the hard nub. “I like this.”

If she thought she was in control, she had another think coming.

“And I like this.” This was the hard ridge of his cock against her softest flesh. This was his mouth on hers, catching her gasp, giving it back in a soft “yes” as her lips relaxed, parted, and then welcomed the thrust of his tongue, lying passively as she learned the movements and then shifted beneath him. Her nails bit into his pectorals. He pulled the gown up, flicking her bound nipple with the side of his thumb. She arched and cried out.