Pussycat Death Squad (12 page)

“I really had no idea.” Then, at his pointed glance, she continued. “I mean, aside from the obvious.” He sighed dramatically. “I know we're going to do that, but I thought it was just a casual American thing.”

“Baby, look. I know you don't think much of Americans, but I already told you, I don't do casual, American or otherwise. Did you really think I'd be willing to put you at such risk if all I wanted was to get laid?” He shook his head when she didn't respond. “Do you know if they're going to kick you out of the Guard?”

“I hope not, but I really don't know.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He tossed the hand wipes down on the table. “I want you, probably more than I've ever wanted anything, but I don't want to be with you if it means you'll lose something you really want.”

Lelia nodded, suddenly more sure about this than she ever had been about anything in her life. Knowing that he was willing to put her needs first made it even clearer: if she wasn't in love with him, she was well on her way to falling, and falling hard. “I want you, Patrick. I've been in the Guard since I was a child, and I've never wanted anything else until I met you.”

Oh God, that grin again. This time he smiled so hard, both dimples showed, and she went under for the last time.

As they exited the restaurant, the sound of a waterfall in the courtyard where the restaurant was situated greeted them. It was almost sundown, but the sizzling heat still rose from the cobblestones in hazy waves, and a group of children ran in and out of the fountain with unbridled joy.

Patrick gave Lelia a questioning look, but even he was surprised when she ran into the fountain, heedless of the fact that they were still fully clothed. The fountain had jets of water set flush in the cobblestoned surface. The water went off at different random intervals. Lelia, with impeccable timing, cupped her hands over a jet just as it went off, directing a punishing stream of water directly into Patrick's face. The fight was on. The children watched and joined in the water fight, splashing one another until both adults collapsed to the ground, too exhausted from laughter to continue.

Patrick looked down to where Lelia leaned her head against his shoulder. Every now and then her shoulders shook with giggles. The parents had rounded up the children, and most had already left. He leaned down, placing his hand under her chin to tilt her head back for his kiss. She laughed into his mouth, then returned his kiss with fervor.

He moved to pull away, but she reached up to pull him closer, opening her mouth farther, and sucking his bottom lip between her own.

Patrick forced himself away. “Baby, we're still in the middle of this fountain. Let's go.” Lelia opened her eyes as though coming out of a daze.

“Oh, of course.”

He stood, then helped her to her feet. She still looked somewhat embarrassed by their public display, but he wasn't fazed. It was a military town, after all. He knew they'd seen considerably worse. He watched her nipples pucker against the lightweight shirt she wore. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer against his side but looking down to enjoy the display.

He cleared his throat. “You ready to go to the hotel? I thought you might want to get out of those wet clothes.”

Lelia looked down at her clothes. They were a bit worse for wear after her second dousing of the day. She nodded, snuggling up closer against him. “This has been a really fun day.”

“I'm glad you've enjoyed it.”

They continued walking toward the parking lot.

“Do you always take your dates to amusement parks? Or am I special?”

Patrick only had to think about that one for a second. Mrs. McBride didn't raise no fools. “Of course you're special.” He had a moment of uncertainty. He knew she'd had a good time, but maybe he should've taken her on a more traditional date. “Would you have preferred dinner or a movie?”

Lelia shook her head. “No, this was lots of fun; it's just different from what I imagined.” They were standing next to his truck now, and he paused by the passenger door after he helped her in.”

“What had you imagined?”

“I mean, I've never been on a date before. Other than my foster mother, no one I know ever has. I just thought it would be, I don't know, more like the movies.”

Wow, she'd never been on a date before
. Patrick had a hard time getting his mind around that fact. He knew she was twenty-eight years old and the level of isolation she'd lived with all her life was mind-boggling. That fucker really was keeping them like a harem.
Well, not really a harem. More like a fucking menagerie in a gilded cage for him to show off to the world
. He climbed into the driver's seat.
Not anymore, you bastard. This one is mine.

* * *

Lelia stood by the windows, looking out at the lovely waterfront view. She hadn't quite gotten over the discomfort of coming to a hotel with a man for the first time in her life. Checking into the hotel had been a surreal experience. Patrick had checked them in, then escorted her up through the elegantly eclectic lobby. When they returned after lunch, she knew it was just her imagination, but she felt as though the eyes of everyone there were directed their way. Seeing their reflection repeatedly in the floor-to-ceiling gilded mirrors hadn't helped. That was complete rubbish, of course. As Patrick had pointed out, in a military town, the hotel employees had seen it all and then some. The hotel was much more luxurious than she had expected. Jacksonville was a typical military town; most of the hotels and restaurants were chains designed to cater to middle-class families.

As though he'd read her mind, Patrick walked up behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“This place is really nice, isn't it?”

Lelia looked up at him. “Yes, it is.” She shifted away from the window and walked over to the bed. The presence of her own neatly packed overnight case was evidence of Astaria's complicity. He'd even remembered her
mulalla
; though the room was carpeted, she still preferred to use her own prayer mat. Lelia supposed she should be annoyed by his boldness, but couldn't help but appreciate that he'd been so thoughtful. That was especially true because he'd been careful to ask if she wanted separate rooms. No point in being coy; she wanted nothing more that to be with this man as much as possible.

Patrick sat down on the bed, his back against the lushly padded headboard. Its graceful lines arched over their heads to the ceiling. The rich brown leather contrasted sharply with the stark white linens that adorned the bed. She could feel his eyes on her as she wandered restlessly around the room. She had just counted the number of steps from the window to the door when he spoke up.

“You don't have to do this.”

She stopped, turning to face the bed where he reclined in what appeared to be a totally relaxed position. Even if she'd been foolish enough to be fooled by his somnolent posture, the intensity in his leaf-colored gaze gave the game away. She shivered as his look made her feel like a fairy-tale character under the predatory eye of a large russet-colored wolf. Unfortunately for her, in this case Little Red Riding Hood wasn't necessarily averse to being eaten. In fact, she was pretty sure she would get more than her fair share of yummy bites.

“No. No. I want to. I'm just—I don't know—I guess I'm just nervous.”

“Are you sure?”

Lelia gritted her teeth. She really wished he'd stop asking and get on with it. When he asked, she had to think about what she really wanted, and the last thing she wanted to do right now was think about what she was doing. She nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes, I'm sure.”

“Then come here,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. Not that she felt like arguing. She approached the bed.

“Kiss me.”

She startled, almost instinctively balking at his authoritative tone. A nervous giggle rose in her throat until she cut it off, amused by her own contrary nature. Hadn't she just been thinking that she wished he'd get on with it? Now that he was doing just what she wanted, she had to find fault with that as well. As moisture gathered between her legs, she couldn't dispute her body's heated response to his command. She leaned forward and placed her mouth against his, but instead of the chaste kiss she knew he was expecting, she found herself giving him a carnal, openmouthed kiss. Her tongue twirled against his. Driven by the shudder she felt rip through his body in response, she opened her mouth wider, compelled to push even harder.

Her tongue stroked the ridges along the roof of his mouth; then she captured his tongue between her lips, sucking on it ardently. The sound that roared up from his chest was barely human as he pulled away with a gasp.

“Take off your clothes,” he said with a guttural groan.

Lelia pulled away, barely comprehending what he'd said. “What?”

He scooted back against the headboard, again assuming a casual pose that in no way concealed the raging erection behind the fly of his jeans.

Lelia stared at the impressive bulge, trying to think in spite of her throbbing pussy. His commanding tone was triggering something in her, something dark, erotic, and unexpected. She'd never suspected that she'd enjoy being dominated, but it was all she could do not to fling herself on him and give in to her body's craving.

Locking her eyes with his, she grabbed the bottom of her shirt with both hands and pulled it over her head. She stood before him in nothing but a plain white bra and jeans. Encouraged by his narrowed gaze, she reached back to unclasp her bra, then paused. She'd never been naked in front of a man before. Too turned on to really be embarrassed, she still hesitated. Patrick sat up.

“Take it off,” he ordered in that same commanding tone.

Lelia almost swooned and couldn't get out of the garment quickly enough. She stood before him, her shoulders back as she proudly showed him her breasts. She knew they were nice; all her friends had told her so. They stood up now, the nipples erect and pouty, begging for his touch. Instinctively, she reached up and grabbed her nipples, squeezing them tightly. She closed her eyes, pressing her legs together against the almost unbearable arousal the motion set off.

Patrick rose off the bed, batting her hands away with an insistent “mine,” then replaced her hands with his mouth. He sucked strongly against one nipple while rolling the other between his fingers. One at a time, he lifted each breast, cradling them in his palm. She couldn't contain the whimper that escaped her throat as he scraped a turgid nipple with his blunt fingernail. That was followed by a groan that came from deep in her throat when that same nipple was pressed between a thumb and forefinger, its swelling mass rolled and twisted back and forth. Lelia grabbed his head, pressing him even closer against her breast. She grabbed his other hand and rubbed it against the heat between her thighs, unashamed of the moisture she suspected he could feel collecting there. She ground against him, desperately reaching for fulfillment.