The Satin Sash

Laughing, he hauled her up so she straddled his hips, and her body responded to his nearness.The lazy smile that had been tugging at his lips faded while a sensual awareness began to creep into his gaze. His eyes shimmered like onyx as he took in her face, her shoulders, her breasts. His cock pushed into the apex of her thighs.

He wanted her.

And she wanted him. She wanted him not less than before, but more. It was slightly worrying. Before, maybe part of her attraction had to do with what Grey had told her about him. It was like being told Paris was beautiful, full of shops, romantic. It was like listening to a motivational cassette or even a doctor working you in a hypnotic trance; suddenly you wanted Paris with your entire being. It had all been Grey . . . what he said . . . and Heath had been an eclipse, a dark mystery Toni had begun to ache to unravel. But now he was less a mystery and more a real human being to her, and he was marvelous. He and Grey together were marvelous. The three of them. This trip. It was all marvelous.

Eyes hot as he raised his hand to stroke her face, he thrust his thumb into her mouth, dampened her lips with her saliva, then ran his thumb across her mouth with a brusque, desperate swipe. He covered her cheeks with his hands and rubbed his nose against hers. His breath seeped into her lungs when she parted her lips. “I want you all the time,” he whispered.

“I want you all the time, too.”

She slanted her mouth to his in offering, but he buried his lips in her arching neck. Her lashes fluttered shut as he tended to the area, her head tilting to give him better access. “Heath, when are you going to kiss me?”

He kissed her neck—wetting her skin, lapping it with his tongue. “I am kissing you.”

“My lips. Don’t you want to?”

“Yes.” He didn’t stop at her neck, but his warm, moist lips ventured up to nibble her chin.

“Don’t you like kissing?” she insisted. Because she was dying for his kiss. She had pictured it in her mind, had decided he would taste of beer and mint, and every atom in her body craved it like life.

He went to her earlobe, ran the tip of his tongue up the tender backside.Through the irregular sound of his breaths, she could barely make out his gruff words. “I have a feeling I’d like kissing you very much.”

She dropped her face and searched for his mouth with hers. “Then kiss me now.”

“No.”

“Don’t you know how to kiss?” she hissed, her leg getting tangled on the sheets as she rolled away. Grinding her teeth together in sheer frustration, she pushed at his shoulders with the heels of her palms and rose to her feet, ready to spit nails at how annoying and impossible he was.

“Son of a bitch!” He was on his feet the next instant, his hands plunging into his hair.

In a black pair of boxers, chest heaving up and down, he watched her stalk around the bed, grab her pillow, and storm out. And she stormed out of there knowing precisely why he was all alone in the world. Knowing exactly why no woman wanted to be with him. All that man wanted was sex!

She quickened her steps down the hallway, cursing him and herself. A part of her had hoped she’d have the nonchalance not to care whether he wanted her kiss or not, but there was no denying the awful pressure in her chest. His denial hurt.

Pushing her hair back, she stopped in the living room and wrapped her arms around her chest, trying to stifle the furious tremors shuddering down her spine. She felt so . . . so . . . so unwanted. Her lips were not at all bad to look at, and yet he tore his eyes away from them every time he saw them. She didn’t know of a man who would do the kinds of things Heath did to her and not want to kiss her!

She tensed her shoulders when she heard him breathing heavily behind her.

“Come to bed with me.”

When she didn’t respond, he curled his hand around her elbow. Though she didn’t extract her arm, she made no move to touch him, either.

Whispering, “It’s not what you think, Toni,” he caught her by the waist and pressed his lips to her neck.And he rocked her.To and fro against his body. Rocked her so she wanted to dissolve against his strength. She stiffened against the impulse.

“I don’t think you even know what I think.”

“Then maybe you don’t understand.” The fact that he was speaking to her like a child, not patronizingly, but with an odd, gruff tenderness, only wrenched the knife in her further.

“I understand perfectly. I’m your weekend screw. Not good enough to talk to and not to kiss.”

“I can’t fucking . . . argh, this is ridiculous!”

He thrust his hands up, and she shoved past him when he did. “You’re right—it is.”

Ludicrous. Ridiculous.Why did she even care? Why couldn’t it not matter whether he wanted to kiss her or not? Why didn’t Heath feel like just sex to her, like he was supposed to? Like she was to him?

“Are we having a fight?” he asked as he followed her down the hall.

She didn’t know what to reply, so she swiftly closed the door behind her. Lounging on the bed, Grey glanced up and immediately set down his Sudoku as she plopped down on the bed. “I thought you’d fallen asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.”