Stay the Night (17 page)

“He likes them exotic and buxom.”

She remembered Jennifer the nurse and was willing to give Cole that. “I’m sure you’re right.”

“You’re cute, Titania, but you don’t have a conventional beauty most men prefer.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Do you work at being so charming, or does it just come naturally?”

“I’m just trying to help.”

She snorted. “I don’t need your help.”

“So you’ve connected with MacNiven already? Of course you have.” There was a thoughtful pause. “But if you’d taken his picture you’d have told me to stuff it.”

“I need to go, Cole.”

“Are you interested in him, Titania?” he asked out of the blue.

Damn him and how well he knew her. “I don’t know why you ask that.”

“You are. I can tell.” He sighed as though the thought saddened him. “You’ve taken his pictures then?”

“I’m going now, Cole.”

“You
haven’t
,” he exclaimed. “Titania, you know he’s just using you to get what he wants without giving anything to you. It’s a tale as old as time. He’s playing you. I guess he’s back to scoring, isn’t he?”

She stiffened. “You think that because that’s how
you
operate. You don’t know Ian, and you obviously don’t know me if you think you can try to kill my career and believe I’d still date you. So bugger off.”

Agitated, she hung up and threw the book she was reading across the room. She stood and began to pace. Cole was somewhat right, and that bothered her most. She may be in Ian’s arms but she hadn’t gotten any closer to getting the green light for the photo essay. Ian was complacent in the tentative relationship they had. And why not? He had everything he wanted.

She didn’t have anything—except Ian.

She liked Ian. A lot.

But her career defined her. Without it, what would she do with her life? Ian would understand that.

Was he playing her?

He wasn’t. She bit her lip. She didn’t think he was.

Frankly, Cole and Ian had both put her in a bad place. They were both controlling and highhanded, out to further their own wants and desires but not placing any importance on hers, like Reginald was. She’d sworn she’d never let herself be treated like that again, and look at her now.

She picked up Psyche from the table in front of her. She hadn’t taken any pictures in two days. She missed the weight of her camera in her hands.

What if she took Ian’s pictures while he wasn’t looking?

She made a face. She didn’t want to do that, for lots of reasons. But she couldn’t help but think that if she showed him how great her concept was and how flattering it’d be to him, he’d relent.

If she took some pictures, he’d see her vision more clearly. Once he saw how he’d appear in them, he’d be less opposed.

In theory.

The problem was that after the last doctor’s visit, she wasn’t sure Ian would ever agree to the story. She understood why—he was worried about being perceived as broken.

She wouldn’t do that. She’d make him look like the hero that he was.

But there was a niggle of doubt, so she picked up her mobile and called her conscience.

“Good timing,” Gigi said when she answered the line. “We’re taking a break from the shoot, and I’m admiring the Greek coastline. I miss you, Tawny. You should come down for a few days.”

“I’m in the middle of an assignment.” Sort of.

“Someone exciting?”

He was the most exciting man she’d ever met. “He’s resisting having his photos taken, but I’m working on it.”

“What does that mean?” her sister asked.

She shrugged, playing with the end of her ponytail. “I was thinking of taking some pictures without him knowing and then showing them to him to prove they won’t be unflattering. What do you think?”

“Why are you asking me? You never ask for opinions regarding your work.”

She shrugged again. “There’s always a first.”

“Who’s the man?” Gigi asked with her unerring instinct for getting down to the bottom of things.

“No one you know.” She frowned. “At least I hope you don’t know him.”

Gigi gasped. “Tawny, you like this one.”

“That’s the problem. I like him and it’s clouding my judgment.” She curled back into the couch. If she didn’t like him, she’d have just taken the pictures and gotten it done. But because she cared about him, she didn’t want him upset. “How lame is that?”

“My little sister’s growing up,” Gigi said, pretending to sniffle. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d fall in love. I thought you’d be too pragmatic for that.”

“I’m not in love,” she mumbled. At least, she didn’t think she was. Wasn’t love supposed to be all shooting stars and lightning?

“Does he know you love him?” Gigi asked. “Does
he
love
you
?”

“I don’t know, Gigi.” She threw her hand in the air. “I just want to take his picture.”

“Then do it.”

Titania worried the edge of her shirt. “You think it’s okay?”

“Take it and then show him. I can’t imagine anyone hating your pictures. He’ll be a convert when he sees them.”

That was what she was counting on. Only Ian was as stubborn as she was. If anyone were going to resist, it’d be him. “Okay. Thanks.”

“I need to get back to the set. I love you, Tawny. Let me know how it goes.”

She nodded, hanging up. Then she went and took Psyche out. Ian was working out. Since his doctor’s exam, he’d started training with a vengeance.

Tiptoeing down the hall, she peeked into his workout room. He was on the treadmill, running like he had zombies after him. He had on his headphones, so loud that she could hear the crackly music from where she was standing.

She aimed, focused, and took a shot.

He didn’t notice, so she fine-tuned the shot, taking a couple more of the whole before she zoomed in on his face. Sweat dripped down his cheeks and his eyes were intent on a distant goal only he could see.

She snapped another shot of just his legs as he ran, focused on his knee, the scars livid against his skin.

That was the one—the one that showed how tough and determined he was, that highlighted how much a warrior he was. It’d inspire people and show them how a hero persevered despite the odds.

Feeling both happy and guilty, she ducked out before he realized she was there. She went back toward the living room, stopping in the hallway to review the pictures she’d taken.

Her heart beat faster as she scrolled through them. They were good. Extremely good. Maybe even the best work she’d ever done.

She went through them again more slowly. She wanted more shots from other aspects of his life—one of him curled up with a romance novel would be fabulous—but this was a great beginning.

“What has your attention so fully?”

She jumped, almost dropping her camera, as Ian came up alongside her. He wore shorts, had a towel around his neck, and he looked satisfied.

“Good run?” she asked, trying not to be distracted by his naked torso.

“Good run. I used the new brace Rowdy helped me cobble together.” He grabbed her by the waist. “I need to shower. Want to wash my back?”

“Yes.”

He grinned as though she was kidding, but then his expression went blank as he realized she wasn’t. “Do you mean it?” he asked, his voice husky, his gaze serious.

“Do you think I’d lie to you?” she asked, internally wincing as she thought about the images stored on her SD card.

“No.” He walked her backwards, his body against hers. “I think I better get you in the shower before you change your mind.”

“No chance of that.” She shimmied her arms out of her shirt and tossed it over her head.

His gaze went down her body. He stopped walking when it registered that she didn’t have a bra on.

She arched her brow. “
You
going to change your mind?”

“Not a chance, and I can do you one better.” He kicked off his shoes and dropped his shorts.

She’d seen naked men before, but something about Ian standing there with a towel wrapped around his neck and nothing else made her mouth go dry. His ridged abs narrowed into his hips and his perfectly muscled legs, and all she could think of was that she wanted to lick a trail all the way down.

He grinned at her. “I’ve never seen you speechless. I think I like it.”

“I have better uses for my tongue.” She gave him a wicked smile that would have made Gigi proud and turned to saunter toward his bathroom.

He caught up to her at the doorway in his bedroom, catching her from behind. His hands snaked around her, cupping her breasts. Her nipples came to life, so tight and tingly she felt it between her legs. She pressed herself into his hands, humming in pleasure when his lips began to nibble on her neck.

“I don’t think I can make it into the shower,” he confessed.

She felt his urgency pressing against her bum. Reaching between them, she grasped him. “Think you can make it to the bed?”

He shook his head, nipping her neck with his teeth. “Not sure I can.”

A shiver of anticipation went down her spine. Still holding him, she led him to the dresser just to their left. She let go of him, braced her arms on it, and stuck her hips back to rub herself against his hardness. “Here then.”

“Here,” he agreed, running his hands over her. He touched her as though she were an art piece, made of wondrous materials. She closed her eyes and savored his touch, wishing it would never end even as she wished he were touching her in more intimate places.

“You are a revelation, Titania,” he said, reverence in his voice. He covered her back, his hands exploring the front of her. “Look at you. Gorgeous.”

She opened her eyes and found herself looking at the two of them in the mirror directly in front of them. Her nipples were red and stiff, and her chest was flushed with pleasure. Ian stood behind her, darker, manly, his eyes glittering with desire for her. She met his gaze in the mirror and swallowed. “My knickers are wet,” she whispered.

He inhaled sharply and his hands tightened on her for a second. “Maybe we need to take them off.”

“I think so.”

“Maybe I should check first.” He unbuttoned her jeans and slid his hand in.

She cried out as his finger brushed just the right spot. Her legs pressed together, and her head fell back. “
I
won’t be able to make it if you do that again.”

“Really.” He touched her again.

She gripped the dresser, biting her lip. “More.”

He pushed her pants down, so they sat just under her rear. Then he slid his thick finger back and forth between her folds, right on the perfect spot that shot currents through her and made her see sparks.

She dropped her head on his shoulder. “I’m going to come, Ian.”

“Yes,” he said against her neck. His other hand held her across her chest, squeezing her breast. He rolled the tip, his other finger between her legs.

She cried out, eyes closed, feeling the explosion start at the center of her and expand until it reached every corner of her being.

She was dimly aware of Ian opening a drawer and the sound of a rip. Then he pushed her jeans to her feet and stepped up behind her again. “I want you, Titania.”

She opened her eyes and met his gaze in the mirror. “Badly.”

“Yes.” He bent his knees a little and positioned himself at her opening. He ran an affectionate hand down her hair to her back. “Lean over and let me in, love.”

Her heart did a funny thing, and she wondered if she were having a heart attack. But then she got distracted by the feel of him gliding into her. She gripped the edges of the dresser, bent over, pushing herself against him to encourage him on. “Ian.”

“Yes, love, I’m here.” He wrapped himself around her, filling her, encompassing her, until she couldn’t feel where she stopped and where he started.

And his hands—they were everywhere, caressing, plucking, rubbing. Her senses were so overwhelmed that she didn’t know what to focus on.

So she let go. She closed her eyes and let pleasure roll over her, wave after wave until it built into an unstoppable tsunami.

“Come with me, Titania,” Ian whispered in her ear. “Take me, love. Take all of me.”

“Yes.”
Yes
. She screamed his name as he rocked into her again and again, harder and harder, until she saw stars. Vaguely, she realized he stiffened behind her and, with one more thrust, he cried her name, his hand biting her flesh.

She felt her knees give away, and she collapsed on the dresser for support.

“Here.” He gripped her by the waist and lowered her to the floor, turning her so she was cradled in his arms, her head resting on his heart.

It beat heavy, excited, and she knew it was for her.

She swallowed, her eyes wide, realizing that they’d just crossed a line and everything was different.

Everything
.

She’d had sex before. The situation with Cole was evidence enough that she’d had sex with someone she shouldn’t have. But with Ian it didn’t feel wrong—it just felt terrifying.

He nuzzled her forehead. “Now I definitely need a shower.”

She buried all the emotions that didn’t belong here and tried to put a smile in her voice. “You
have
been a dirty boy.”

He rolled her under him. His eyes were devilish but lighter than she’d ever seen them—happy even. “I can be dirtier,” he said.

Her belly tightened as though she hadn’t just had two orgasms. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling him grow harder already. “I’m counting on that.”

Chapter Seventeen

Dribbling the ball with his feet back down the indoor soccer field, Ian passed it to Halliday, who kicked it on to George, who tried to get it past Nichols, their goalie.

But Nichols punched it up.

It headed straight toward Ian. He caught the ball, juggling it with his knees to get it under control, grateful that he could do this.

He’d started practice overly careful, but the brace he and Rowdy had rigged was holding up. He had the sense that his teammates were being careful of him, too. It annoyed him and warmed his heart all at once. They were good guys.

He kneed the ball up high over his head. As it came down, he aimed it with his head straight toward the goal.